


Ginny Chronicles: Part 1 Little Girl Lost

by justalittleconfusing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittleconfusing/pseuds/justalittleconfusing
Summary: How does Ginny evolve from the girl who sticks her elbow into a butter dish into a woman who leads the DA in a secret underground rebellion? Little Girl Lost will take Ginny through her first year as a student trying to find her place between her classmates, brothers, and Tom Riddle. Rated Teen for chapter 6





	1. Little Girl Lost

**Author's Note:**

> How does Ginny evolve from the girl who sticks her elbow into a butter dish into a woman who leads the DA in a secret underground rebellion? Little Girl Lost will take Ginny through her first year as a student trying to find her place between her classmates, brothers, and Tom Riddle. Rated Teen for chapter 6

"For one moment, the warlock knelt triumphant, with a heart clutched in each hand; then he fell across the maiden's body, and died." Molly closed the well-loved copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. She looked at battered spine and repaired pages. A gift from Gideon to Bill, the book was one of the few things that managed to survive all seven of her children. She put the book on the nightstand table next to Ginny's latest diary.

"Mum," Ginny was half asleep the night before her first day at Hogwarts.

"Yes, love." Molly knew she should leave the room. She should check on the rest of the childrien, but this might be the last moment of childhood to savor.

"The maiden was stupid. She should never have fallen for the Warlock's tricks" said Ginny.

"Well, sometimes the world isn't as easy as it should be. Especially when our hearts are involved," chuckled Molly.

"Well, I am going to protect my heart. No one will be able to ever hurt me," Ginny sat up and looking at her mother with determination blazing in her brown eyes. "And I am going to grow up and prove I am just as strong and brave as everyone else."

"You will dear. And you will grow up faster than any of us will like. But for now, I am happy you are my precious little girl. Don't rush to be grown. Life will have enough hard lessons to teach you soon enough."  
Ginny let her head fall back into her mother's chest and sat there quiet for a few moments. The rise and fall of her Mum's breath lulled her to sleep.

The next morning found typical chaos. The Weasleys plus Harry arrived at the station later than normal after several backtracks for forgotten books, broomsticks, and a diary. They made it to the platform with a few moments to spare. Molly lectured Percy to keep an eye on Ginny while Arthur confiscated exploding slugs from the twins.

Ginny dragged Percy onto the train and chose a compartment near the front. They sat in silence as Percy reviewed his leather bound notebook. Ginny waved through the window until she lost sight of her parents waving on the platform.

"Do you think Fred and George will come sit with us?" asked Ginny sitting down.

"No," Percy refused to look up from jotting notes in his book.

"Do you think I have enough pocket money for the trolley cart witch? Do you usually get snacks? How often does she come by?" Ginny hopped up again to look into the hall of the train.

"Not sure."

"Where are your friends? How much longer until we get there? Will you cheer loud and break protocol when I am sorted into Gryffindor?" Ginny sat beside Percy.

"Of course," Percy still not removing his face from his book.

"When do I get to try out for Quidditch? You know they let Harry play his first year maybe they can make an exception for me. Do you think I should talk to Professor McGonagall? I am going to talk to Professor McGonagall. If I make the team will you do that dance you di-"Ginny leaned her head on Percy's arm obstructing his writing.

"REALLY Ginny. Stop asking questions if you don't want a reply. I need to meet with the other Prefects. Stay here and do not leave the compartment," Percy got up while Ginny fell into the seat. Ginny stuck out her tongue towards the back of his head as he walked out into the hall.

Sighing and looking around she found the compartment empty. Ginny bent over to retrieve her bag for the corned beef sandwich her Mum packed and pulled out her diary.

"You are not listening to me. They are missing. We discussed meeting at the station in Diagon Alley. I arrived fifteen minutes early. I waited until the last possible moment for their arrival before getting on the train. I never saw them come through the wall with the rest of you." Hermione's exasperation reverberated throughout the compartment.

"And you are not listening to me. They were in the car next to me this morning. They are probably under that silly invisibility cloak having a laugh. Yes, I know about the cloak Hermione so you can stop looking at me like that," lectured Percy. "If you three think any of the shenanigans you pulled last year will fly you are dead wrong."  
Ginny looked up from the top of her diary. Hermione's fiercest glare bore into Percy. Her hair looked wilder with her frustration, giving her the appearance of someone twice her size and height.

"Hello, Hermione! Are you hungry? Would you like a chocolate frog? The trolley witch came by and you missed it. I had enough sickles for two," offered Ginny.  
Hermione sat down next to Ginny without removing her glare from Percy. She picked up a History of Hogwarts. Mutterings about incompetent Prefects and their overstuffed egos flooded over the book. Ginny ate both frogs while she returned to her barrage of questions for Percy about her first year.

The train stopped at Hogsmeade station. Hermione stormed away from an exasperated Percy. She cross-examined everyone who entered the platform if they saw Ron or Harry. Convinced they never got on the train she turned her back to an agitated Percy. Percy took a deep breath and walked in the other direction trying to round wayward students with the other Prefects.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" boomed a large voice. Ginny made her way towards the narrow path with the rest of the first year students. When she got closer to the voice she saw the largest face she had ever seen gazing kindly down into her small one.

"Red hair, ye must be Ginny Weasley! Ah, know all yer brothers. Run along now an' min' yer step. Make sure tae come see me in mah cabin for tea an' biscuits. Ah just got a letter from yer brother Charlie. First years follaw me!" said Hagrid.

Ginny made her way with the group towards the opening of the path where it joined the lake.

"Ony four to a boat!" Hagrid yelled over the chatter.

"Hello Ginny," sang a dreamlike voice. Ginny turned to pull her familiar friend Luna into an embrace. She lived in a tower near the burrow and they grew up playing together.

"I was hoping to catch you on the train."

"Dad gave me extra pocket money this morning if I promised to stay with Percy and avoid the twins. Percy was so boring he never spoke and wouldn't let me leave the compartment. I had enough money to buy two chocolate frogs! Want to ride in this boat?" Ginny said pointing to a boat with an eager boy smiling at them.

"Hello, I am Ginny and this is Luna. We are from Ottery St Catchpole in Devon. Who are you? Do you have any brothers or sisters? I have six older brothers but Luna is an only child." Ginny spoke while Luna walked around the boat examining it in great detail.

"Hello Ginny and Luna, I am Colin. I have one little brother. Are you both from wizard families? Or should I say, witch? I hope I am not being rude this is all very new to me."

Colin tried to balance while helping Ginny into the boat. Luna took off her shoes and lifted her robes above her knees. She waded out into the lake and sat down in the boat from the back end. She focused on re-adjusting her shoes while the others talked.

"Not rude at all! You need to meet my brother Ron's two best friends. Hermione Granger, she is probably the smartest witch in the entire school. And Harry Potter is a real live hero! He is also the nicest boy in the world. You should probably start with him. Before coming to Hogwarts they were both raised by muggles and can tell you anything you want about how to fit in. I hope we are all sorted into Gryffindor together. Wouldn't that be fun?" Ginny continued to dominate the conversation as they sailed across the black lake. Colin nodded along trying to take in every word. Luna reclined counting constellations creeping through the clouds. Her hand skimmed the top of the cold water.

They arrived on shore and walked into the grand castle towards the Great Hall. The castle which looked grand from the other side of the lake transformed into animposing stone structure. The size of the old carved wood doors and the iron knobs dwarfed the three first years by a solid three meters. They stood stagnant until Hagrid reached down to open the doors. The polished stone floors gleamed torchlight reflections guiding their way like a trail. A myriad of portrait conversations evaluating first years masked the rumbles of student conversations.

Entering the Great Hall, Ginny searched the high walls for her family's Gryffindor banner. She looked up at the thousands of candles in the night sky with clouds drifting over a glowing moon.

First years were filled onto the stage in alphabetical order by Professor McGonagall. She looked stern and fierce until Ginny noticed kindness crinkling in her eyes behind her tough façade. Colin broke off towards the front, Luna in the middle and Ginny fell behind as the final student. Nerves flit in Ginny's stomach as she looked out into a sea of unknown expectant faces. She tried to find familiar glimpses of red over at the Gryffindor table but her eyes struggled to focus.

"Creevy, Colin - Gryffindor," the hat proclaimed. Ginny smiled at her new friend eager to join him.

"Lovegood, Luna - Ravenclaw," rang the hat. Ginny frowned as concern settled in. The Ravenclaw table cheered as Luna drifted away. Ginny hoped Luna would find a way to fit in. Not everyone always understood Luna's way of seeing the world.

Finally, it was Ginny's turn in the center of the stage. Professor McGongall placed the old hat gently on her head. All voices stopped as she fidgeted underneath the darkness and weight of the hat.

"Hmm let's see. This is an easy way to end the night. Two parents and six brothers have already blazed the trail but you are determined to do things your own way. A brave heart and a kind soul make you a - GRYFFINDOR!" the hat bellowed noise and light from the Great Hall broke through the void flooding her senses.

Ginny felt the hat plucked off her head as she ran towards Hermione and her brothers. The cheering red and gold table clapped for her the final Gryffindor. She sat down between Hermione and George as Dumbledore started the welcome speech. Ginny noticed the look of intensity from the train still fixed on Hermione's face. She continued to try and make visual contact with a bored looking Percy.

"Well, if Ron didn't find his way to dinner he must really be lost," said Hermione to Ginny loud enough for Percy to hear. "I am not sure what type of Prefect Percy thinks he is being so unconcerned by two missing students."

Ginny decided not to distract Hermione. She focused on listening to Fred and George on her other side. They were discussing upcoming tryouts with an intense Scottish boy next to George.

After Dumbledore dismissed the students Percy lead the first years out of the hall. Ginny lingered back with Hermione. She sensed her intensity calming once they were out of sight of Percy.

"Did you enjoy the boat ride?"

"It was lovely! I met up with a friend from back home, she was sorted Ravenclaw and made a new friend in the boat. He is muggleborn like you. I told him he could ask you questions."

"Most excellent! You will have to point him out later. Here we are at the portrait. The password is cannonballs - don't forget you don't want to be stuck outside." The girls walked in together and found seats by the fire.

Fred and George joined them starting a game of Exploding Snaps as the girls watched the portrait hole for Harry and Ron. Ginny introduced Hermione to Colin and started writing in her diary. Their conversation drifted to half a dozen book recommendations on Wizard customs and etiquette. Colin excused himself with a dizzying look on his face as he tried to process his new assigned reading list.

"I told you to start with Harry," Ginny's winked and smiled towards her bewildered friend.

It has been hours since the sorting ceremony. Percy sat down with them and told Hermione he received word the boys were on safe. They were on school grounds and but in a great deal of unknown trouble. Rumors of flying cars, expulsion, and the great squid floated between conversations around the common room.

"What could they have done already to wind up in the headmaster's office?" wondered George.

"And why didn't we think of it first?" retorted Fred. "Soonest we were ever summoned was the first night! How did they manage to get in trouble before the sorting ceremony?"

"As if being in trouble is some sort of badge of ho-" Harry and Ron stumbling through the portrait hole cut Percy off.  
Hermione jumped to cross the room knocking several students out of the way as she made her way towards them.

"There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors - someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car -" said Hermione.  
Ginny got a glimpse as a wave of attention overwhelmed Harry and Ron. She stayed back in her chair by the fire. Ron's face transformed into a cocky grin. The attention suited him as he basked in the chaotic glory that was usually reserved for the twins.

Harry did not look as comfortable. He tried to smile but it came out more like a grimace. He shifted his weight between his feet as his eyes darted around for an exit. Ginny wondered if he would see her. She debated the merits of waving him over but his gaze never made it to the back of the room.

She watched as he started towards the dormitory while Ron trailed behind. Several people pat their backs. Unlike Ron, Harry didn't turn to encourage the admiration. They left the room and the excitement continued to buzz in their wake. No one noticed Ginny picking up her diary and walking silently to the turrets.


	2. Ginny Chronicles Part 1: Little Girl Lost Chapter 2: New Friends, a harry potter fanfic | FanFiction

"Ginny! Wait up!" Colin called to Ginny walking out of the portrait hole. "Did you finish the reading the second chapter for Potions this morning?"

"Barely. It kept putting me to sleep last night," she yawned. "Professor Snape's class is a lot more annoying than I thought it would be. And I would rather bathe in the grease stains from his hair than sit next to the Slytherin's any longer than I have too."

"Oy! Ginny that is a mental image I didn't need!" laughed Colin.

"Take any interesting pictures lately?" Ginny asked pointing to the camera swaying around Colin's neck.

"I have! I want to learn how to develop using magical solutions instead of the muggle way. I never saw a moving picture before starting here," Colin said as he held the door into the Great Hall.

"Oh look 'ittle Gin-Gin has a new special friend!" teased Fred. George laughed trying to pull him out of the doorway. Ginny spun around channeling Molly Weasley's fiercest look of disapproval. Fred looked at her glare, shuttered, and caught up to George.

"You ought to be more careful with your impressions Gin-Gin. Wouldn't want your face to freeze like Mum's. She was quite gorgeous before we came along." Their laughter followed them down the hall as Ginny held her head in defiance of their insults.

"Ignore them, Colin, they are daft. My dad would be fascinated with your muggle pictures and film. He loves muggle stu-" Ginny turned around to face the room and stopped. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in the middle of breakfast. The only empty seats were next to Hermione and across from Harry. Her face flushed and her stomach performed acrobatic twists as the trio waved them over.

"Don't sit me next to Hermione! I haven't touched any of those books she gave me," whispered Colin. He grabbing the seat furthest from the group. Ginny looked at the remaining seat. Taking a deep breath, she sat across from Harry listening to the continuing conversation.

"As I was saying, Lockhart is a joke. He isn't teaching us anything useful. I doubt he knows basic defense spells," said Harry piling eggs onto his fork. Ginny stopped gathering food and listened. She liked Professor Lockhart. Interesting adventures about the people he saved filled his books. For days after meeting him in Flourish and Botts, Mum talked about how admirable he was and how fortunate they were to learn a critical topic from him.

"Honestly, Harry, you ought to be more respectful of a professor. He isn't that bad. I enjoyed his books," Hermione chided. Ron rolled his eyes with Lockhart's praise and stabbed around his sausage. "What do you think about him, Ginny?"

All eyes turned to Ginny as she stared downward behind her curtain of hair examining her toast. She wanted to tell them how interesting Lockhart was but didn't want to speak against Harry. She could feel his emerald eyes piercing through her shield of hair as a wave of heat engulfed her face. She continued the internal debate as her pulse sped faster than an illicit flying session. Should she agree with Harry or tell him the truth? Ron stopped stabbing his sausage sensing her dilemma and sighed.

"Forget blimey Professor Lockhart. He is bonkers. Did you see the score on the last Cannon match? Almost came even before they lost the snitch," said Ron.

Harry laughed while collecting his things, "Sure if being down 100 points is almost even in your book. Stop stuffing your face, we need to get to class."

"So, you were telling me about how your dad likes muggle things?" started Colin as soon as the trio left.

"I will meet you in class Colin, I need to use the loo," Ginny whispered with her voice threatening to break. She left the dining hall alone and walked to the first-floor bathroom praying it would be deserted. Thanking Merlin, it appeared Myrtle was somewhere else.

"The burrow. Mum washing dishes. Dad counting plugs. Twins laughing. Ron eating. Gnomes flying." She chanted her mantra internally splashing cold water on her burning face. She willed the blush to fade and could feel the pulsing of blood slowing down as her heart returned to normal. Composure regained, she took a final deep breath and sprinted late to the dungeon.

"Ms. Weasley," drawled Professor Snape. "Please explain to the class why you are entering my classroom five minutes late. Also, why you felt the need to distract your fellow students from valuable learning time?"

"I am sorry sir," Ginny mumbled so quietly most of the room missed the apology. She took a step and her feet tangle causing her to fall. All her things spilled onto the hard stone floor. One expensive vial of murtlap essence shattered. The precious green liquid leaked into the grout. Looking up with anger twisting her face the Slytherin side of the room roared with laughter. Before she could reach her wand Professor Snape stepped in front of her.

"Second day of class and already you cause as much trouble as all your siblings combined. 25 points from Gryffindor. 10 for tardiness, 10 for your distraction, and 5 for your arrogance not answering my question."

An outraged retort formed on her lips until she jerked her head up. The angry group of Gryffindors glowered at her instead of Snape.

Shame replaced anger as she gathered her belongings in silence and found her seat. Colin looked bewildered as Ginny's buried her face behind her book. She would have to write to her mother about the murtlap. A brick formed in her stomach as she calculated the cost of the replacement. She noticed she tore a hole in the knee of her robe and she didn't know the patching spell. Tears threatened to well up in her eyes.

"Broomsticks. Orchards. Wind in my hair." Ginny chanted to herself giving up on paying attention to the lesson. "Quaffles. Hoops. Blue skies. Warm bread. Mum singing off-key. Dad's workshop." The unshed tears dissipated with the heat in her face.

As soon class ended she darted towards the door leaving Colin to clean their cauldron. She reached the corridor before the Slytherins caught up. The roar of laughter followed her down the hall. She raced towards the changing staircase desperate to lose the ruckus behind. She slowed her pace once the sound of laughter retreated to the distance.

"Hello, Ginny. You look a tinge fuschia today," said Luna.

"Oh Luna," sighed Ginny. "Today has been horrible."

She took a deep breath and looked at her friend. The familiarity of buggy blue eyes reminded her of the Devon sky and soft fields close to the burrow. Ginny felt her tension calm as they walked side by side towards Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Nargles are all over today. You should be extra careful. They already stole half my quills," said Luna.

"Don't worry you can have some of mine," said Ginny reaching in her bag.

Growing up other kids use to pick on Luna for her idiosyncrasies. Luna smiled serenely at her as she took the quills. Ginny tried to decide if this was Luna choosing to rise above the prank or if she genuinely thought Nargles scuttled about. Despite knowing her for almost her entire life, Ginny struggled to read what was beneath the sunny aloof demeanor Luna projected.

"Well, this is where we part. Thank you, Ginny, for the quills," said Luna.

Ginny stood outside Professor Lockhart's classroom. Her annoyance rose at the thought of a lesson with the brunt of 10 angry Gryffindor's blame over lost points. Outside of flying, this was supposed to be Ginny's favorite class. But now knowing how much Harry disapproved of Professor Lockhart, she questioned her enjoyment.

The class did little to ease her agitation. Ginny skipped lunch opting for a retreat in her empty room. Here she could pour her embarrassment into the blank pages of her diary.

"Today has been the worst. Everything was fine until I had to go sit next to stupid Harry Potter and his stupid green eyes and his wild black hair. I sat right next to him and had a chance to talk to him. Hermione even asked my opinion! But I was too afraid to speak up and disagree. I have no Gryffindor bravery. And stupid, slimy, nasty, Snape taking all those points and not punishing Slytherins for casting that jinx! I know one of them cast a jelly leg jinx. Feet don't turn in like that on their own. How am I going to tell Mum I need more murtlap? Maybe I can borrow some from the twins. I know she would buy me more but I know Mum and Dad don't have the money."

Her words disappeared as "Don't worry dear Ginny, soon everyone will see you for the beautiful and spirited witch you are" took their place.

Ginny stopped and stared at the pages. She picked up her quill and dipped it into the ink, careful not to allow a single unwanted drop to splatter, to write "Hello" on the page.

Her words disappeared as "Hello Ginny!" appeared in their place.

"Who is this? Why? How are you writing to me?" she wrote.

"I am Tom. And you are the one who started writing to me. Would you like me to show you how this works?" Tom wrote.

"Okay," said Ginny.

Ginny left her familiar sunlit room and was transported to a dorm reliant on candlelight. The four poster bed and furniture were the same, but instead of red and gold, silver and green surrounded the room. A porthole of black water rushing by replaced her regular view of the bright blue sky from the turret. No longer alone a young distinguished man with a Head Boy's badge sat in front of her. He had a handsome kind face showing an open and welcoming smile.

"It is so nice to meet you in person Ginny. It has been a pleasure to read your inspired thoughts. It helps the time pass in the most enjoyable fashion," said Tom.

"Where are we? What is this?" asked Ginny. She left her seat and wandered around the unfamiliar dorm room while Tom continued to speak.

"Why we are in my diary of course," replied Tom. "I hope I wasn't too brash bringing you here."

"This isn't making any sense. How are you doing this?" she turned to face Tom.

"Well let's see. Where to start? As you can see I am a Hogwart's student myself." He said gesturing around. "This was my room. I didn't fit in with many of my classmates and was isolated. I vowed no one should go through these halls feeling like that so I created this diary."

Ginny continued to stare at him with skepticism. Finally speaking she asked, "Are you a Slytherin?"

"Why yes, I am! Yet, I went to school during a different time from what you have described. Our head of house would never have allowed the same out of line behavior as this Professor Snape. I do hope you will continue to write to me. I am enjoying your perspective and thoughts," he said as he took her hand gently stroking it with care. "You are much more observant than most. You are so pure. You are the first student I wanted to show my world."

"Other's have written to you? But you are blank? How do you work?" Ginny asked with continued hesitation. Despite the gentle caresses her hands stayed taught with tension.

"I have been around for many years and as you saw I can cleanse and replace words as needed. I am a secure place for secrets since I can clear all your words if I fall into the wrong hands. I created this diary as a special project. The magic is too advanced for a first year. Just know, I experimented with several types of magic that allowed my heart and spirit to live on through the ages. I designed this diary to allow me to appear during a moment of emotional strife or great need, " he said. "I hope you continue to write, it's been so nice getting to know you."

"I am delighted to make your acquaintance too. Thank you for listening," said Ginny.

"The pleasure is all mine dear. Let me get you back to your room," Tom reached down and kissed her relaxed hand as she returned to her desk.

Ginny felt pleasure looking down at her hand remembering the soft strokes. Gentle warmth spread across her face. She had been writing in her new diary for weeks now but had never expected anything like this. She put her quill down on the blotter pad and closed the diary.

She turned it over inspecting the front, back, binding, and every blank page. She reached for her wand and tapped the diary unsure of what to do next. She never tried to use a spell to detect magic before. She sat holding her wand limply staring at the book trying to understand what was happening.

Her parents gave her a talking diary. But why? Her Dad always warned her not to trust something without a brain. He spent years telling stories of bewitched objects from the Magical Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department. Why would he give her a diary like this and not tell her?

Wracking her brain she tried to think of any potential magical device that could talk back. She twirled her wand around a loose strand of hair. There had to be a logical reason for this. Was it okay for certain things, like paper, to respond? The other day the twins charmed words to insult her on some large piece of parchment. Fred and George didn't seem to have any moral issues bewitching their papers to talk back. And while she knew better to trust Fred's ideas, George wouldn't steer her wrong.

Maybe this magic diary was okay for her to use. This Tom fellow did seem nice.

Ginny put down her quill and got up from the table. Reassuring herself if she was still worried tomorrow she would tell Mum in her next letter.


	3. Quidditch Dreams

Ginny woke to golden rays of sun piercing through pin sized gaps in her drawn red velvet bed curtains. She inhaled the frigid morning air and huddled deeper into the warmth of soft blankets and pillows. Her roommates' slow and steady breath moved in uneven patterns creating a sympathy of inhalations and nasal snorts.

Ginny left her warm bed placing her bare feet on the cold wooden floor, grateful her roommates were asleep. After living together for several days the girls partnered off into little groups which didn't include Ginny. Mira and Beryl were inseparable and talked ad nauseam about boys. Their shared obsession with which boy fancied which girl baffled Ginny. Growing up with six brothers, she could not comprehend their fascination with every boy in their year.

Xenia and Adelaide both came from wealthy families. They spent their childhoods traveling the world and wearing the most fashionable clothing. Ginny felt self-conscious in conversations around one set of robes costing more than her entire hand-me-down wardrobe combined. Everyone was cordial and nice to one another, but the ease of the friendships developing around her felt foreign. It was easier to dress in darkness and keep herself as hidden as her thread barren undershirts and socks.

Today she didn't need to worry about boys, roommates, or clothes. Today she was going to fly. Being a few hours away from dancing in the air electricity pulsed through her veins. These early weeks at Hogwarts was her longest streak off a broom since learning how to pick the shed's lock.

Years of covert practice sessions shroud in darkness and paranoia tuned her senses to an extraordinary level. When flying in the moonlit sky she sailed through the treetops using her senses instead of eyesight. Always cognizant that recognition would result in severe punishment, she had to assess any disturbances on ground. Making split second decisive decisions to ignore a gnome when hearing one skirting through the underbrush but knowing to dive into the apple tree when her father would creek the back door as he snuck into his workshop away from Mum. She smiled remembering all the frantic maneuvers she flawlessly executed to avoid detection over the last five years.

Fully dressed she worked on twisting her hair into tight braids. She practiced telling Oliver she was ready to be the next chaser on the house team. The three older girls performed well enough but like Harry, her flying skills were well beyond her age. She was certain it was enough to secure her a starting spot on the Gryffindor team. All she needed was a chance for someone to notice her.

Grabbing her diary she slipped into the vacant common room. Hermione sat curled next to the fire with her face hidden behind a large rune covered tome. Needing to waste a few minutes, Ginny smiled and lazily reclined into an empty chair.

"Good Morning. How are classes going?" asked Hermione face remaining hidden behind the over-sized cover with her unbridled hair cascading to the sides.

"Alright, I guess. I am learning a lot," said Ginny.

Harry and Ron thundered down the stairs from their dorm. Harry punched Ron in the arm while Ron retaliated by shoving Harry in the back. Their laughter echoed through the empty room. Ginny watched the boys with her gaze fixed on Harry.

"Still struggling to talk to him?" Hermione put down her book with her full attention on Ginny.

Ginny blushed and her relaxed posture turned rigid. She traced the slick gold lines embossed on the black cover with her finger trying to avoid Hermione's piercing stare.

"It's okay you know. He isn't as intimidating as people think. He is down to earth. To be honest, a bit of a headstrong git."

"You would think so. You didn't grow up hearing hundreds of stories about how he saved the world," Ginny stated straightened out of her chair to avoid Hermione's meddling. Hermione shrugged in response and picked up her book.

"Ginny wait don't leave! Come join us for breakfast," Ron said walking behind Hermione's chair.

Harry was in one of his rare jovial moods where he looked young and at ease. His face bore no signs of worry or concern and his smile was goofy and genuine. Maybe Hermione was right, he was a normal boy like her brothers. She could probably even talk to him about Quidditch and flying. How he could catch any snitch. How he saved the entire wizarding world. How he alone ended the first Great Wizarding War...

Her face turned crimson. No, no, no, she told herself. Get a hold of yourself. Today is too important. Don't lose your nerve. She opened her mouth to try and respond but nothing came out. Standing slack-jawed she looked between three sets of expectant eyes.

"Appointment," she croaked running out of the common room. Her heart was pounding against her chest harder than Charlie tenderizing a piece of raw goat meat for his dragons. She walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall willing herself to pull it together. She didn't have time for stupidly adorable boys. Boys with their forest green eyes and warm kind smiles. She pushed away her thoughts knowing she had to get in the sky and show Oliver how talented she was.

The Great Hall was still empty with only a few early breakfast risers. She spent the last few weeks obsessively observing Oliver's dining habits. Guided by militaristic precision, he always started at 6:15 surrounded by his captain notes and left by 6:55 when the tables would start to crowd. Scanning the hall she found Oliver chatting with Fred and George reviewing several rolls of parchment while Percy sat apart reading a textbook.

"Good morning!" Ginny strutted with a surprising level of cheer and confidence for a first year asking for a spot on a full roster. "Percy, Fred, George, Oliver, mind if I join you?"

"Not a problem. Here sit down." George looked up from his parchment to move his bag from a neighboring seat before going back to examining the Quidditch roster for the upcoming year.

"Excellent this is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about," she pointed to his sheet. George looked over while Fred and Oliver stayed focused on several sheets of player formations. Ginny cleared her throat to gather their attention. "As I was saying, you need me on the team."

"As what Gin-Gin our cheerleader? I guess we could use a little spit-fire to boost morale," Fred leaned over to ruffle her head. Ginny darted away with cat-like smoothness so he wouldn't distract her from her mission.

"No, as Chaser. I am brilliant on a broom. Give me five minutes in the sky and you will see what I am saying. I promise it will be worth your time," Ginny stopped talking and waited. Her legs bounced with excitement in her seat.

The three boys stopped and looked at her expectant face. George wore a befuddled expression trying to decide if she was serious or joking. Fred failed to contain a bubbling laugh as his face scrunched and twisted. Oliver barely registered her presence before looking back at his player diagram.

"We can go out right now! I know you have keys to the broom shed Oliver. What do you say?" Ginny struggled to maintain her confident demeanor as nerves flooded through her stomach. Why weren't they packing up to follow her? It was 6:53, right around the time they should be leaving anyway. She didn't count on them not giving her a chance. She could hear her blood roaring in her ears for what felt like an hour waiting for his reply. "Please."

"Well. You see Ginny. I appreciate the enthusiasm...but...well..." Oliver stammered with his discomfort growing. His eyes darted towards her brothers looking for an escape.

"Ginny no. Just because you come from a long family history of greatness you can't bully your way onto the team. Leave Oliver alone. You haven't had your first flying lesson yet to know the stick from straw," Fred explained dismissing her outright. He turned back to the document with Oliver. George looked at her and shrugged half-heartedly.

"Please. Honestly, just five minutes and I will never bring it up again," Ginny said no longer trying to hold onto her confidence and resorting to begging. "Let me try."

"Ginny c'mon, we can't. If we let every ickle-firsty who can't hold a broom audition we would be up to our ears in requests," George said bringing the conversation away from the group. Anger and embarrassment flooded through her. "Why don't you start eating so you won't be late for class. There is always next year or so. Fred and I will help you over Christmas once you learn the basics to get you going."

"Give me a chance! What's the difference between me trying out this year and Harry last?" Ginny yelled losing her cool. Her face flushed with anger and the urge to hex something welled her fist around her wand. Red sparks shot out of the tip. She felt dangerously close to losing control.

"Maturity," said Percy as he lowered his book and cleaned his horned rimmed glasses with a pressed handkerchief. "Ginny, stop before you embarrass yourself and the family."

She forgot Percy was sitting there witnessing her downward spiral from a confident budding Quidditch star to a petulant child throwing a tantrum. Realizing she lost her case, Ginny sat and gathered food on her plate. She tried to ignore the three boys talking about the upcoming season. They gathered their parchment and textbooks leaving her alone in the crowding hall.

Indignation flooded her realizing three of her brothers would not advocate on her behalf. Feeling irate and self-conscious she stabbed her sausage with more ferocity than intended chipping the edge of her plate.

Couldn't they see how much she needed Quidditch? Needed to be a part of the team? Colin was nice but, all he cared about was his camera. He never showed any interest in sports. She loved Luna but, she could only listen for so long about flying snorkblasters, eating kumquats, and other made up things. She had yet to bond with any of her first year classmates.

No, she was alone. Ginny looked at her diary. Maybe this is why her parents gave her Tom. At least she had one person who she understood. She had her Tom.

"Good morning Tom," Ginny wrote frowning with all her plans crashing.

"Good morning Ginny," Tom replaced. "I need a favor, will you help me?"

Ginny smiled, "Yes."


	4. Chapter 4

Loud buzzing dissipated as rustling leaves and wind flooded her ears. Pressure constricting her chest released. Ginny gasped relieving her suffocation. Darkness abated as she awoke surrounded by massive bright orange mounds reflecting the afternoon sun. Muck covered her cloak and shoes. Her hands, covered in an unknown dark copper brown substance, emanated a metallic aroma. Booming footsteps approached her. She dove behind the first giant mound and placed her blazing cheek against the waxy cool side.

A pumpkin. Registering her surroundings, she realized the mounds were pumpkins three times her height. How did she get in the middle of an oversized pumpkin patch? Squatting she placed her hands to the ground for stability. She recognized the muck's texture and smell. Dragon dung. Charlie sends the same dragon dung home to Mum. Losing her balance, she slipped deeper into the dung covering the coppery matter on her hands and cloak.

Ginny sat defeated in putrid smelling dragon poop. She leaned her back against the massive pumpkin and looked toward the sky to registered the sun's position. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. She searched for the castle to use as a compass. It was three maybe four in the afternoon.

How did she get from breakfast in the Great Hall to the middle of the afternoon in a pumpkin patch? What was on her hands? It didn't look or smell like manure. Footsteps thudded behind her and a roaring voice rang in her ears.

"Ginny girl! What're you doin' covered in muck hidin' with meh pumpkins?" Looking up she saw Hagrid's bushy grizzled face looking down at her. His hand, the size of one of her Mum's fully cooked Sunday hams, reached for hers. She put her doll-sized hand into his as he gently pulled her out of the manure.

"Hello, Hagrid. I was trying to figure out what you used on the pumpkins to make them so large! They look almost as if they have been engorged. I wanted to write home to Mum so she could try it in our garden," the lie spilled out of her mouth before she could contain it.

"Well engorged is one word for it, but tha' needs to stay our little secret," Hagrid laughed a deep thunderous laugh winking at her. "Come on, get out of tha' dirt an' come in here an' ge' cleaned. I jus' got another letter from yer brother Charlie. Come in for a cuppa an' biscuits an' I'll show yer."

Ginny walked through the hearth into Hagrid's hut. The warmth failed to penetrate the chill enveloping her. Ginny washed her hands in a basin of lukewarm water and climbed onto a wooden chair taller than her shoulders. She sat at the massive table picking at biscuits harder than boulders and sipping tepid tea. Her mind a million miles away she half listening to kind small talk.

"So does Harry ever come by here?" Heat rushed to her face. Why did she ask that?

"Sure. Usually with yer brother and Hermione."

"When's the last time you saw him?"

"Not since they made their gran' ol entrance in tha' car of theirs. The things those two get into withou' Hermione to talk sense into em," Hagrid smiled shaking his head.

"Does he ever come alone or at night?" Ginny clamped her hands over her mouth to stop the barrage of questions from leaving. Hagrid looked at her curiously and then laughed heartedly.

"I know wha' this is. You fancy 'im, don' you? Ah well, he could do a lot worse than you I'd say. You come from good stock and good people. Yer Mum an' Dad, yer uncles - rest their souls, an' brothers, even them twins have good hearts. If yer're half the witch Molly is, and I would bet yer're and then some, well yer can' be doin' much better than that," Hagrid took a large gulp of tea before continuing to chuckle. "Tell you what, I will put in a good word next time I see him."

"Thank you Hagrid. I think I need to return to the castle. It is almost dinner," Ginny murmured. Her face seared with embarrassment. Her head pounded as if a nutcracker compressed her skull like chestnut about to crack.

"O course. Don' want you wanderin' about after dark. Found my chickens attacked this mornin' before I found you. Something from the forest, Fang and I need to ge' out and see. Be extra careful where you wander until we know for sure. 'Specially with one as small as yerself," Hagrid walked Ginny to the door. Giving Ginny's small shoulder a squeeze, her shoulder crumpled under his grasp. "Don' be a stranger!"

She grimaced a smile as she waved a silent goodbye. The sun moved deeper in the sky as it sank into the western horizon. Ginny's stomach gnawed in hunger but she walked past the savory scents wafting from the Great Hall. Making her way through the portrait into the empty common room she climbed the staircase to her quiet room. She threw her dung-scented cloak into the corner of her bed and sat at her desk noticing her diary unopened.

How did her diary get from the Great Hall to her room? Choosing an amber quill she dipped it in ink with extra care. "Tom? Tom are you there?"

No response. She waited a few moments. The pounding in her head and buzzing in her ears intensified.

"Tom, please, what happened?" she wrote losing patience.

"Good evening Ginny," replied Tom.

"Something strange happened. I lost almost eight hours between this morning and this afternoon. I woke up in a pumpkin patch outside the castle."

"You don't know? Don't you remember volunteering to do me a favor?"

Ginny threw her quill onto the desk as her heart pounded so loud she could hear all the blood rushing through her body. Taking a deep breath she gripped the sides of her chair steadying herself. Picking the quill back up she dipped it into the inkwell with more force.

"Yes, but why would that make me lose time? Why did everything go blank?"

"When you left you said you wanted to do me a small favor. I am thrilled to have a friend willing to help me. After you brought me back here I am not sure what happened."

Ginny looked at the words. Tom had asked for a small favor. She agreed to help him without asking a single question. Then the world went black and eight hours elapsed in the span of four seconds.

"Tom, I am scared. I don't remember anything that happened."

"I assumed you were mature enough to help me but, maybe as a first year I was wrong. I would be happy to stop replying if I am scaring you - I never had any intention of frightening you. I care so deeply for you Ginny. I never had a friend I could ask for help. If this is too much, due to your youth and immaturity, I understand. You don't need to continue writing but, I will miss you dearly. Goodbye," Tom wrote.

"No, please don't leave Tom. I am mature enough. I promise," Ginny desperately scratched leaving ink spots and tearing the page. If Tom stopped replying before she understood what happened. She needed Tom. He just said he cared about about her deeply. He trusted her. He needed her.

"It is all fine my dear, thank you for standing by my side and not leaving. The first week at a new school is scary. Maybe you lost time to deal with the stress. I promise I will never leave you. We are together now."

Pressure dissipated across her face as tears started to escape. Stress. It had to be stress. Mum. Mum would know what to do. Maybe she could write Mum and ask her more about her diary and why she gave it to her. Using her shirt sleeve she wiped her face. Everything seemed so simple his morning; flying, Quidditch, Tom. Now she couldn't figure out why it felt sullied.

"I adore you too, Tom. I won't leave you and will keep writing. Tonight, I am going to send an owl to Mum. I am sure she will know why I am losing time. I am going to send her an owl right now and we can set this whole day behind us."

The idea of writing to Mum and getting some answer brought comfort to this whole strange situation. Putting the diary on her bed with extra care Ginny walked through the empty common room.

Stepping through the Fat Lady's portrait Ginny turned left to walked behind the tapestries. Wanting to avoid people before she understood what was happening she took the deserted path through the back corridor. She stopped and hid in the shadow of a stone archway when she heard footsteps and voices approach and then continuing past her.

Why did everything feel so dirty? What changed? She tried to remember what happened between breakfast and the afternoon. What was on her hands when she woke in the garden? Her heart beat hard against her ribs. Her hands filled with clammy sweat as her arms went numb. Visions of red streaks and white feathers flashed before her eyes. An ache shot from her shoulder to her neck as she sank against the stone wall and fell to the floor.

Broomstick polish. Quaffles bouncing. Plugs in her father's hands. Blue eyes laughing. Strong hands kneading bread.

Willing herself with an unknown strength she stood bracing her weight against the arch. Mum. She was so close to the Owlry. Mum can help fix this. She climbed the spiral staircase past Ravenclaw tower.

"Hello Ginny," a soft voice from behind startled Ginny. Luna lay prone on the floor outside Ravenclaw's door . Her legs climbed flat against the wall with her feet pointed towards the ceiling. She kicking them in a rhythmic tap dance as she spoke. A familiar annoyance rose inside Ginny. She didn't have time for the latest thing Luna read in the Quibbler. She wanted to write her Mum.

"Ginny did you hear me?" asked Luna. "You ignored me at breakfast too. Are you mad at me?"

Ginny stopped and tried to recall what Luna had said at breakfast. Unable to focus she mumbled an apology and shrugged her shoulders.

"I asked if you were ok." Luna sat upright pushing her back against the wall as she looked at Ginny's face. No anger or resentment looked back at Ginny. No concern either. Luna examined her as if she was one of the puzzles in the back of the Quibbler.

"You never seemed to have trouble talking before. I like listening to you. What happened?"

"I am not sure." Ginny's resolve to keep walking wilted away. She sat next to Luna and leaned her shoulders into her friend's side.

"Do you need help figuring it out? Have you tried looking at it upside down? I can't figure out today's riddle and thought if I approached it from a different angle I might have more luck."

"I don't think so. I am so tired." Her urge to climb to the top of the owlery left with her words. Waves of fatigue flooded her. Encased in solid lead her arms fell limp to her side. Her face filled with weariness pulling her eyelids shut as dizziness descended. Ginny's resolve to write home sank like a riptide pulling her below a current of exhaustion.

"I want to go back to my room now." Ginny struggled to stand slipping against the wall. Her legs wobbled unsteadily beneath and she needed a minute to regain her balance and composure.

"Ok. Tomorrow is Friday so at least you won't have afternoon classes and can rest. Let's meet under the big tree by the lake? You like Quidditch and flying. Can we watch the practices and talk more?" Luna stood with grace next to Ginny faltering and helped Ginny steady herself. She brushed Ginny's copper hair out of her reddening eyes and behind her ear. Luna's eyes were clear and blue showing no signs of confusion or doubt. Making plans to go sit beneath a tree, like their favorite willow tree by the Burrow pond, seemed so easy and simple.

"Sounds lovely," Ginny sighed and turned to head back to her room.

She walked as if she wandered lost in a dense fog. All thoughts of writing home vanished as her bed pulled her with an unseen urgency towards her dorm. Her pace quickened as she walked faster towards her dorm almost running. She gave the password to the Fat Lady and went straight to her room. Slipping behind her bed curtains she fastened them until all light vanished and she sat alone in the dark. She gasped wheezing trying to push away her rising panic.

Exhaustion rolled over her as she sprawled out on her on top of her mattress and blankets. The last thing she recognized before sleep engulfed her was her bare leg hitting something hard and cold. In the unconscious deep recess of her mind she knew exactly what touched her skin. But for now, all she could do was give into the blackness of sleep.


	5. White Rooms

Suffocating pressure and a buzzing hum softened as Ginny woke sitting in her desk chair. No light filtered through the window leaving shadows cast by a full moon dancing across the walls. What time was it? A few moments ago she was suffering through Professor Binn's History of Magic lecture chatting idly with Tom. It had been Thursday morning.

Soft candlelight illuminated the room proving it was no longer morning. Wax dripped steadily down the candle on her desk; judging by the accumulation it had been burning for several hours. Grabbing a worn quill needing to be replaced, Ginny jammed it into the ink bottle. She no longer cared about ink splatters on Tom's pristine pages.

"Tom when is it? How much time did I lose?" Ginny wrote leaving tiny tear marks from the force of her quill.

"Ginny! Are you okay? You went away for so long; I was incredibly worried about you. It is the evening, the first of November.

Ginny slammed the diary shut feeling her heart rate speeding. Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. She lost four days. How could she be so stupid to lose more time? What happened during the last four days? Her mind whirled with thoughts splintering in a thousand different directions as her heartbeat quickened until it was out of sync with her body. Would Dumbledore make her leave Hogwarts if she kept losing time? Would people think she was crazy?

Grabbing the diary again silent tears streamed against her cheeks. She buried her head into her arms trying to push them away without her dorm mates noticing.

"Tom, I am scared. I don't know who to tell I am losing time. What is going to happen to me?"

"Well, I have never heard of someone losing time like you do my dear. My only thoughts would be to send you to St. Mungos. They have a secure ward for people who can't control their magic however, it is a scary place. I volunteered there once and I don't want to see you there."

Coldness flooded Ginny's skin. A boulder in her stomach twisted causing her body to shake with terror. Would they make her leave Hogwarts? Would she be able to go home?

"What do I do? Please help. I can't keep losing time."

"I am sure it is stress. You are such a young witch to have so much power. I feel it radiating off your skin. Maybe if you talk to me whenever you feel scared I can help you before you lose time. Don't tell anyone at the school, even your brothers. They would never understand you are not crazy. I know you, my dear. You are precious to me. I know your thoughts, fears, hopes, and dreams. I know you are as pure as the blood flowing in your veins. I will do everything in my power to keep you close and safe with me," Tom's words washed over Ginny calming her inner turmoil and bringing a small semblance of comfort until they faded; leaving her alone with a blank white page.

Ginny transported to a small stark white room. Disinfectant potion overpowered her nose with a burning sensation. There was a small white nightstand next to a twin bed with a single thin gray thread barren blanket. No photos or pictures were found on the desolate bleached walls. A mixture of muffled shrieks and pleading screams caterwauled around her. Running to the door she grabbed the handle twisting hard propelled by a feral desperation to escape. The door was locked. Panic seized her realizing she was trapped. Ginny banged her fists and released a savage futile scream for anyone to hear her plea, "Mum! Please, Tom! Anyone!"

She slid face first against the door until she fell to the floor. Her balled fist repeatedly banged the door above her head. She continued to pound for hours begging for anyone to release her. Surrendering from exhaustion she curled into a ball on the cold tile floor ceasing her screams and pounding.

She was back in her room. She jerked her head towards her roommates. Everyone was in the exact same position. Mira and Beryl were talking quietly on Mira's bed while Xenia braided a blue silk ribbon into Adelaide's golden hair. Ginny shivered in her chair as relief flooded when she realized she sat in her safe and comforting room. The candle wax kept dripping in the holder on her desk but, judging by wax accumulation no time had passed.

The redolence of sterile disinfectant potion lingered bringing with it waves of anxiety. She threw the diary at her bed and ran past her roommates desperate to leave the stench of the white room behind. Mira exchanged a knowing look with Beryl. The girls, who stopped trying to talk to Ginny a few weeks ago, watched her leave in silence. As soon as her she left the room Ginny heard the murmurs of "freak" followed by cascading nervous laughter. She shakily walked to the common room and found Colin sitting by the fire loading film into his camera.

"Hello Colin," Ginny tried containing the tremble in her hands. She sank in the armchair closest to the fire desperate to replace the horrible sterile smell with charred wood.

"Oh, so you are talking to me again?" said Colin.

"I am sorry what?" Ginny stiffened in her seat. Colin did not answer but kept adjusting the film in his camera. He sighed and looked at her.

"Strange thing about Mrs. Norris. Think Harry did it?"

"Did what?" asked Ginny.

"Petrified the cat on Halloween," he enunciated as if he was speaking to a dimwitted three-year-old. "Anyway, I don't think he would do something like that. You were right the first day, he is a good bloke. Quiet and hates talking, but a good bloke. He doesn't have it in him to hurt a cat."

He closed the back of his camera and put the strap back around his neck.

"Well, I need to grab a few more shots before curfew," Colin paused as he stood. "Want to meet for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Sure," said Ginny as Colin walked towards the portrait hole. She sat in her chair and stared into the fire. Why would people think Harry killed a cat? What happened to Mrs. Norris over Halloween? Did this have to do with her missing days?

Ginny avoided touching the diary for the rest of the week terrified of being transported back to the white room. She left it locked at the bottom of her trunk wrapped in the defiled robe from the day she woke in Hagrid's garden. Saturday after breakfast she found herself walking with Colin to the Quidditch pitch. Despite the dark and drizzling weather, Ginny felt warmer and lighter than she had since arriving at school. They walked in comfortable silence. Ginny gazed longingly at the field mentally reviewing Chaser formations while Colin adjusted knobs on the top of his camera.

"Hold on," said Colin. "I want to go get a few shots of Harry and the team before they head out. Want to come with me?"

"No thanks," replied Ginny eager to avoid the inevitable awkwardness that came being within ten feet of Harry. "There are few empty seats left. Let me go save you one before the stands are completely full."

Ginny walked the steps through the stands. She pushed herself to the top of the stands where the wind would cause the seats to sway. If she couldn't be in the air with the team, at least she could feel the momentum of the wind rocking. She spied Ron and Hermione closer to the front. Ron was leaning forward studying the empty field with militaristic attention. Hermione had her nose in a large book looking as if she were cramming for a final exam instead of watching a Quidditch match.

"You won't believe the amazing shots I was able to grab during Oliver's pep talk! I would have grabbed some of them gearing up and leaving the tent but Fred, or was it, George? No, it was definitely Fred, tried to smack a practice bludger at my head." Colin spoke so quickly he lost his footing and tripped on Ginny's foot falling into an unsuspecting third year's lap.

Ginny laughed heartedly, almost falling out of her seat, unbothered by Colin's reddening face. He apologized several times gesturing wildly how he did not mean to sit on the unsuspecting third-year girl's lap and begged her a thousand pardons. The poor girl looked more bewildered by the apology than the unsuspecting assault and tried to wave Colin away.

The crowd's excitement electrified the stands with an effervescent energy. Everyone except for Slytherin house was rallying behind Gryffindor. It was no secret Malfoy bought his way onto the team with his Daddy's donation of new brooms. Ginny jumped to her feet cheering loudly with the surrounding crowd as her brothers and Harry flew above the pitch.

Next year it will be her on the broomsticks flying. She was certain she could talk her way into a tryout next year. What happened to her plan of talking to Professor McGonagall? Her memory was filled with holes. Ginny shifted uncomfortably trying to suppress the lack of memories. A whistle blew and the players shot into the air. She tried to focus on the excitement of the game but her mood sank into a downward spiral as anxiety settled in her stomach.

Pushing away her anxious thoughts she settled into the game. The Chasers were running tight formations. Alicia passed to Angelina as Katie barrel rolled into an opening downfield. Angelina took advantage of the diversion and threw above to Alicia who had risen to scoring position. Before Alicia could score a bludger whipped above her broom. The bludger changed paths and hooked around Alicia. It angled straight for Harry who flew lazy circles above looking for the snitch.

Ginny looked for the Slytherin beaters but they were both downfield with confused expressions. Fred and George kept maneuvering across the field trying to keep up with the rogue bludger. Despite the lack of interference from the other beaters, they struggled to control the bludger. Ginny shifted on the hard wooden seat.

The bludger seemed to be avoiding all of the other players as it kept diverting and heading towards Harry. Her heart was in her throat as she watched him dodge and weave another stray bludger. The majority of the crowd focused on the Slytherin chasers interception from Alicia and scoring another goal against a frustrated Oliver. She looked down to Ron to see if he noticed Fred and George looking out of sync in the sky but his gaze was fixated on Oliver playing keeper.

The whistle blew and the Gryffindor team left the sky and huddled on the grass. The rain was sticking to her hair and cloak leaving her chilled to the bone.

"What's going on?" asked Colin.

"I am not sure. Fred and George keep hovering around Harry. They aren't playing like normal."

The team took back to the sky. Harry continued his strange maneuvers as the crowd around her laughed. Didn't they see something was wrong? After watching Fred and George play beater their entire lives she had never seen them crowd the seeker.

"Why are they flying close around Harry?" Colin verbalized Ginny's internal debate.

Harry flew closer to Malfoy chasing after something small and golden. The crowd cheers echoed louder than the rain. It was over. Harry was safe.

Ginny gripped the seat as she watched the bludger to continue to streak towards Harry. Slam, as Harry grabbed the snitch the bludger whacked his arm. Ginny jumped gasping as he descended holding his arm at a strange angle. Her heart was in her throat. He looked so small on his broom clutching his arm to the side. Soon he was lying on the ground when Professor Lockhart walked across the field to him. Ginny's breath returned. Professor Lockhart will help him get to Madam Pomphrey. Ginny turned to Colin but he had vanished.

Climbing down the packed stands she scurried through the celebrating crowd until she spotted Colin at Harry's side snapping pictures. Hermione and Ron were running ahead when Ginny saw Professor Lockhart take out his wand and point it at Harry's arm. Harry looked incredibly annoyed as his arm jiggled in a peculiar way. Amidst the confusion, Hermione and Ron scoop him under his shoulders and walked briskly back towards the castle. The crowd swell rose with excitement for the Slytherin loss and carried Ginny towards the pitch. Colin weaved his way through and found Ginny standing to the side.

"Colin what happened down there?" asked Ginny.

"Pro-professor Lockhart took out Harry's bones!" exclaimed Colin horrified.

"What!" screamed Ginny. Colin shook his head and they turned to walk back towards the castle. They were cold in their wet cloaks.

"I guess Professor Lockhart might just be the hack Harry was saying," said Colin. "Such a shame, I like his stories."

Ginny walked in silence. Worry about Harry and his arm filled her. Would he be permanently damaged? Did it hurt to re-grow bones? The common room was bursting with the excitement of winning their first game of the season and slaughtering Slytherin.

Ginny's escaped to a silent room. Restlessness filled her. She wanted to talk to someone about her fears for Harry before she lost time again. Tom. She could confide in Tom. He would keep her safe. She held her diary close to her chest. She longed for Tom this past week when he wasn't close. She found herself wanting to physically touch the book like an old security blanket of a small child. Autonomously she put the diary on the table and the pages opened to where she had stopped writing.

"Hello Tom," she wrote.

"Hello Ginny, I missed you. Did you have a nice day?"

"Oh, Tom! Harry was hurt." Ginny wrote. "I was so afraid. I noticed early on something was wrong with that bloody bludger. Fred and George fought it off as best they could. It just wasn't enough in the end. What if it hit his head? It would have cracked his skull!"

Ginny paused. Tears she held all afternoon rolled down her face. The fear of being sent away, the terror over Harry descending with one arm, the feelings of isolation from not belonging anywhere consumed her at once.

"It is just so hard. I have been hearing all of my life how Harry is this amazing savior. He defeated You-Know-Who as a baby! But after meeting Harry he is so different than I thought. He isn't confident but quiet. And he is funny! Sometimes I overhear him with Ron and Hermione saying the funniest things in this matter of fact serious way. I doubt he even realizes how funny he is. He was so skinny when he first showed up this summer I thought he was about to break in two. And he has this way of smiling is so different from anyone I have ever seen. His corner mouth smirks upward and he tilts his head to the side. I noticed him doing it when he was losing at chess to Ron one night."

Ginny stopped. She suddenly realized how comforting it felt to confide in Tom and release these feelings. She had been trying to hold her admiration for Harry in since this summer when she humiliated herself by sticking her elbow in the butter dish. Now she could cleanse all of her frustrations.

"Ginny? Are you there? You can keep writing if you like. I think it is admirable you have such kind feelings towards Harry. Do you want to tell me what he thinks about you?" Tom wrote back.

With the floodgates opened, Ginny wrote about how he has never noticed her, how when he talks to her she blushes and loses her voice. How he has this grip over her and invades all of her daydreams. She wrote for so long she missed dinner. That night she fell into a dreamless sleep crouched over her diary on her desk.

She woke the following morning with her back twisted in several knots as she was hunched over her desk using Tom as a pillow. Her arms felt exhausted as if she had been lifting heavy weights all night. A shuddered passed over her body as a cool breeze cut through her sodden clothes. Her mind slowly registered her clothes clinging wet and tight against her form.

How did she get wet if she never left the room? She didn't think she lost time there was no buzzing and constriction. Talking to Tom must have worked! Tom would make everything right again.


	6. Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: end of chapter Ginny becomes very despondent and doesnt care about her safety. A warning if anyone is sensitive to depression

Ginny performed an ineffective drying charm on her cloak. How on earth did her clothes get wet? Something was different but she struggled to identify whatever it was. Uncomfortable and unsettled she threw her wet clothes on her bed. Feeling an urge to escape she redressed, grabbed her diary, and headed to the common room. Before she reached the steps she noticed Fred and George pacing at the base of the stairs talking in low voices. She hid behind the banister to eavesdrop without the twins seeing. The edges of the diary bore into her chest but she was too nervous to loosen her grip.

"She hasn't seemed right in weeks." George ran his hands through red hair that mimicked the dying embers in the nearby fireplace.

"Not since we told her she couldn't try out for Quidditch."

"Were we too harsh?"

"No," Fred sighed into George's guilty face. "She couldn't, Mum would kill us if we had let her."

"Yeah, I guess so. She seems so off. She looks smaller somehow. The only time she talked less than this was when she had dragon pox and slept for a week. Maybe Percy was right and she is sick? That Pepper-Up potion he shoved down her throat didn't seem to fix anything. Does she needs Madam Pomphrey?"

Ginny felt panic gripping her throat. What Pepper-Up potion? Were they noticing she was losing time? Tom was right there was no way her brothers would understand. The smell of disinfectant emanated from the diary. She felt herself shudder as the blood drained away from her face leaving her cheeks pale and numb.

"Nah, she needs some good old fashioned cheering up! We need to break the news to her before Pompous Percy tries too. Did you hear something?" Fred looked around the top of the stairs. She was trapped.

"Gin-Gin, come down here. We need to talk," Fred looked serious. It was disconcerting to see a serious look on a jester's face.

She descended feeling her panic increasing with each step. They knew. They knew she was losing time. They knew she was losing time and they were going to force her to tell Madam Pomphrey who would send her away. She sat on the last step between her brothers resting her head on George's shoulder. She leaned into the familiar comfort of being wedged between two unbreakable bookends.

"It's about your boyfriend," said George.

"My boyfriend?" Ginny looked between the two of them trying to decipher what was coming next. "Did something else happen to Harry?"

"Harry?" Fred now looked at George with a sickening look on his face. "What does this have to do with Harry?"

"Aren't you going out with that Colin kid? Weird ickle-firsty, who is always talking with to you and has that camera around his neck?"

"Colin and I are just mates," Ginny deflected automatically expecting teasing. When nothing followed, she registered something was wrong. "Wait, what happened to Colin?"

"He was petrified." the twins said in unison. Fred continued with a somber voice, "They found him last night. He is in the hospital wing. I am so relieved he isn't your boyfriend! I was questioning your taste."

Fred and George laughed grateful her closeness to the victim was overblown. They teased her about Harry but the words swept past Ginny as she withdrew into herself. Ginny noticed her body trembling when George put a steady arm around her shoulder. He turned a strong hug into a tickle but the attempt to make her laugh failed to penetrate the numbness.

She looked between Fred and George's faces praying this is all a sick joke. Realization slammed into her like a brick wall. This was why she woke up wet this morning. Nausea rippled through her small convulsing body. She did not notice Ron and Hermione arguing their way through the portrait door. She was too distracted leaning over with her head between her legs trying to contain the urge to vomit.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron snapped, his voice thick with confrontation.

"We just found out Colin wasn't her boyfriend, guess I owe you three sickles Ronni-kins. We are celebrating her good sense to still be in love with the Chosen One." George laughed as he playfully smacked Ginny on the back sending her flailing on the floor. "Even though, is that scrawny git with glasses that much better? Ginny, you need to move to a convent until you are 35 maybe 40?"

The air left the room. Ginny gasped as she pushed herself up from the floor onto her hands and knees. She panicked feeling like she was suffocating. She opened her mouth and tried to breathe as deep as possible but her windpipe felt like a straw being crushed between someone's fingers. Sitting on her heels, she waved her hands wildly, desperate to signal the others she couldn't breathe. Hermione rushed over as the room faded to black.

"Shh Shh, it's okay Ginny. It's a bit of a fright. Come on, I will take you to your room." Hermione lifted her out of the seat and helped her walk upstairs. She glowered at Fred and George and sternly explained. "And you two idiots, I have no idea what you said to upset her this much, but I will be talking with you when I get back."

Ginny's body collapsed against Hermione's frame as silent tears saturated her face. She felt herself being led into her darkened room and placed into her bed.

"Ginny, why are your things all wet? Oh never mind, scourgify," Hermione waved her wand and cleaned off a place for Ginny to sleep. "Try to get some sleep or else I will take you to Madam Pomphrey for a calming draught." She could go to Madam Pomphrey. She had to get Hermione out of the room. Ginny straightened her back and controlled the shaking.

Hermione rubbed her back in gentle circles as Ginny pretended to sleep. Hugging her diary too tightly, a red welt formed an indentation against her chest. This could not be from her. The chickens, Mrs. Norris, Colin. She had no memory of any of it. And with Colin, she could have been asleep rather than losing time of memory. Tom. He would help her sort this out. Ginny stayed in bed until she heard Hermione close the door shut was safe to talk to Tom. Scrambling from bed shaking the loose quilt away from her feet she sat at her desk.

"Tom, I need your help. Colin, my friend was hurt. I may have lost time again last night but I am not sure. It felt different than the other times but I woke I was soaking wet and have no idea how it happened. Please, what do I do?"

"I am not sure what to say, Ginny, Colin is your fault."

Ginny's blood ran cold. She rubbed her eyes and re-read the words on the page.

"What do you mean? How is Colin my fault?"

"You spent an entire week without my guidance. You fell into another one of your stupors and I fear you cannot be trusted. Ginny, what were you thinking? Why would you stop writing for an entire week? Of course, you lost more time."

The writing stopped. The harshness of Tom's words hit Ginny like a slap to the face. Without receiving a response Tom continued writing.

"The only reason it wasn't severe this time is because you released so much of your frustration last night. That is why you only lost a night instead of several days. At least you only hurt one student. Could you imagine if you lost control during the day or in the middle of the dining hall?" Tom's words crashed over Ginny like a tidal wave knocking her flat on her back.

Guilt rang true in Ginny's heart. It was her fault. She stopped writing for almost an entire week because she feared the white room. Poor Colin, his obsession with his camera reminded her of Dad and his plugs.

"Look, Ginny, I know you are afraid after your little 'vision', but if you are going crazy you need me. You are nothing without my help; just a vicious little girl who can't control her magic. I am not trying to scare you, but do you want to end up in the white room? Because that is where you are headed if you don't let me help you." Ginny sobbed. She didn't want any of this. She didn't want to be sent away from school or hurt her friends. Everything was so simple when school started. She was going to play Quidditch, learn magic and make cherished friends. Instead, she sat alone in her room, unable to remember half of her classes and possibly hurting people.

"Please Tom, I promise to listen. I will do whatever you say."

"There's the good girl I have grown to love, Ginny. I knew I was right to believe in you. Make sure you keep me as close as possible at all times. Write to me at least once a day to check in and make sure you haven't lost time. I can help you, I promise, but you need to trust me. Or else what is the point of this? Now go to sleep. You had a horrible fright and sleep will ease the shock."

Sleep. Sleeping made all the sense in the world right now. Exhaustion rolled over her as her limbs and eyes felt heavy. Sleep could fix everything. Without feeling, she crawled into bed. She stroked the slick black cover with her fingers. A surge of calming energy flow through her rhythmic ministrations.

It was dark when Ginny awoke from hunger. She walked toward the Great Hall for dinner but nothing felt real. The fear and anxiety she held inside threatened to choke her. Flashes of the white room and a man chasing her repeated like a gramophone stuck on a record scratch. Her heart pummeled her ribs remembering the details of the white room. Memories danced between the suffocating stench of disinfectant and pounding on a locked door. She had to escape. She turned into a corridor away from the Great Hall towards the tall wooden main doors. She felt the straw in her throat tightening in a fist again, she had to get outside in the open night.

She looked out the window. It was dark. Curfew for leaving the castle was in full force. She had less than an hour before she had to be back in the common room. It didn't matter. She had to get away. She looked around and did not see Mrs. Norris or Filch anywhere. Cracking the main door open enough to squeeze her small body through she stepped outside. The wind howled at full force blasting frigid air as light sleet fell to the ground.

Heavy thick clouds blocked the starlight as she walked through the freezing mist. The icy wind cut through her open cloak as the fabric billowed behind her. She should have put on her thick jumper. She should have worn a hat. She should have trusted Tom and written more when she had a chance. Hot tears warmed her cold face as her hands shook from something other than the arctic wind.

She meandered until she found herself in front of the school broom shed. Ginny reached into her long braid and pulled out the pin causing her hair to waterfall down her back. She examined the thick iron lock and found the inner box picking it open.

She walked in and closed the door behind her. The smell of wood, straw, and polish washed over her transporting her back to the safety of the broom shed at the burrow. Her hands stopped shaking allowing her to seize the first broom within reach. Her resolve increased with every step as she left the shed. No one would see her tonight, not with this weather. She was free to fly. She mounted the broom and weightlessly ascended.

She was off. Everything on the ground was still a mess but more manageable with the wind in her hair and ice beating her face. The cold felt like an old friend leading her to safety. She climbed above the trees focusing her attention on her weight to counterbalance the wind. Her cloak fluttered behind causing a slight drag on her momentum. She trundled into a barrel roll twisting and turning in several tight formations. Her hands gripped the wood harder than normal as she fought to control her grip against the ice.

She dove. She didn't slow her ascent. The adrenaline of the dive reignited her senses clearing her mental fog. She accelerated as she watched the ground coming faster into focus. It would be so easy to have an accident on this frozen icy night. People could assume she lost her grip or focus. In the last moment, she instinctively pulled on the broom to avoid a full force collision. She lost control in what surmounted to a failed feint. Rolling off to the side she slammed into the ice-covered ground full force. Her knee rammed into a rock ripping her tights as warm blood trickled down her leg.

Ginny laid back into the hard icy ground and looked towards the black sky laughing. She had no idea why crashing was so funny but it was. She laughed so hard she could feel her sides shaking and her stomach hurt. Tears rolled down her face and she wasn't laughing anymore. Hard sobs convulsed her small body. She released a feral wail into the icy wind containing her fear, guilt, and shame. Panting, her breathing returned to normal and her tears stopped. Water and mud saturated her cloak as the cold spread to her inner layers. She stayed catatonically still in a small ball on the hard frigid wet ground staring into the darkness of the forest.

Snatching the broom she walked back to the broom shed and halfheartedly threw it into the floor. She didn't bother relocking the door. How could anyone care about a stolen broom when an innocent person was hurt? How could anyone care what happened to her when she knew she was no longer innocent.


	7. Trapped

"No more buzzing, pressure, or lost time," Ginny reported to Tom.

"Wonderful news Ginny. Don't forget to check back in during History of Magic."

She closed his cover and sat back allowing the tension draining from her shoulders. A full week past without lost time or attacks on other students, but her underlying anxiety lingered. Her transfiguration and charms homework took the most mental focus as she found herself spending more time in the library trying to siphon away the uneasiness. No level of mental fatigue removed the gnawing feeling that something worse was coming.

Gathering her Charms notes she left the common room for class. It was strange to study alone. Yesterday Professor Sprout told the class the mandrakes were growing on pace and would be ready for Madame Pomphrey soon. Until then, she had to sit next to an empty seat once occupied by her friend. Pushing visions of Colin to the back of her mind she meandered through the halls. Sir Calhoun paused from chasing a dog carrying a colored handkerchief. He turned, bowed with his visor slipping over his eyes and continued his chase through the portraits.

A strange growling noise reverberating from a side corridor as she past the Great Hall. Ginny stopped. Something was different about this corridor. She did not recognize the gothic archways or stone engravings, yet something felt familiar. A sense of deja vu overcame her as she walked into the dimly shadowed hall.

"Hello?"

The sound growled from behind one of the thick stone wall ribs. She stopped and tried to isolate the location.

"Is someone there?" Her heart raced. She heard the growl echo around the ogival curves of ceiling's gothic vaulting. The noise bounced like a ball between the ribs protruding from the wall and the high ceiling arches. She approached the wall rib and placed her hand on the worn stone carving when the noise stopped.

"Ooogle Google Boogle Boo!"

Fred and George flanked her from two sides covered in fur and boils. They laughed dressed as hideous creatures. Normally, she would have laughed with them for making themselves look like idiots. She would congratulate them for catching her off guard. Today they chose to play their familiar childhood game in front of fading writing on the wall. Ginny fell into the wall releasing a terrified scream.

Her eyes locked on the words, "THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE", unable to avert her gaze. She tried to calm herself and stop her echoing howl. Her heart protested pounding like a mallet against her chest. The words came alive. Shutting her eyes she was unable to halt the vision of the feathers and blood-soaked word. She could not stop them from dancing before her in a continuous loop.

Percy sprinted into the corridor hearing her screams. Anger distorted his face as he squared off between Ginny and the twins.

"Of all the idiotic, numbskull, toddler antics the two of you have pulled this is the worst! She is your sister for Merlin's sake! She just had a horrible fright with her friend! How could you possibly think jumping out at her dressed as...as...as… I don't even know what the bloody hell you dressed as!" His pace of speaking increased with every indignant explosion that rolled off his tongue. "How on earth would any of this rectify the situation? Forget lost points, I have half a mind to write Mum to send you daily howlers for the rest of the year!"

Ginny sprinted away. Percy turned to chase after her, but the twins, in a frenzy to apologize, knocked him into a wall sending his glasses spinning on the floor. Percy cursed as Peeves glided through a wall drawn to the chaos crackling with mirth.

"Prefect Percy cannot see pouts about his poor eyesight. Prefect Percy cannot see is angry about a sibling fright." Peeves picked up Percy's glasses and bounced them above his head.

Losing her brothers in the developing fight Ginny sped down the marble staircase and ducked into the girl's bathroom. Panting her body sank against the wall. She focused on matching her breath with the slow cadence of water dripping in the out of order toilet.

"You look particularly ugly today," Moaning Myrtle ascended giggling from the fountain in the middle of the bathroom. "Did a nice looking boy scoff at your face and make you cry?"

Before a retort formed on Ginny's tongue, the room lights strobed. She dropped her notes and books and fell into the cold stone wall gasping. Reflections of a different version of herself moved throughout the room. The mirror Ginny moved without coordination as if she were a marionette pulled by a puppeteer's string. Mirror Ginny's face was almost touching the nozzle on the fountain. Her mouth moved but a noise emanated instead of words.

The lights in the room flickered several times. The noise coming from mirror Ginny's mouth filled the room. It sounded like a snake hissing and then a word in a strange voice emerged.

"Open."

A buzzing sound whirled around canceling the hissing. She had to hang on. She had to identify the voice.

"Open."

She knew if she could fight off the surmounting pressure she would understand why she lost time.

"Open."

She thrashed into the walls trying to stay awake. Her arms and legs bounced against the stone wall but the pain kept her present. An external pressure encapsulated her. The room was compacting and she was being crushed. A few more moments. She had to hang on a few more moments.

"Ginny let go," Tom's voice echoed through the bathroom. She had to fight. She was almost there. She thrashed harder as mirror Ginny multiplied and danced around flashing lights reflecting in the mirror. That voice. She knew that voice.

"LET GO NOW!"

Everything turned black.

G

Ginny woke up in the Great Hall as the buzzing and pressure from the bathroom released. The light was too bright and hurt her eyes. Bacon was in front of her. It was morning. Harry. She kept hearing Harry's name repeated in hundreds of conversations filling the hall.

"Harry petrified Justin."

"Harry can't be trusted."

"Harry is the Heir of Slytherin, a parseltongue."

Silence. Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the hall and all the conversations stopped for a few moments. Harry and Ron bowed their heads together deep in conversation. They were oblivious to the sudden silence that corresponded with their entrance. Hermione's noticed the change. Her gaze darted between hushed conversations with a warning glare on her face. Her face softened when she saw Ginny sitting alone and she gestured to Ron and Harry to join her at the table. Ron and Harry followed continuing to speak in low tones out of Ginny's earshot.

"Hermione, why does everyone keep talking about Harry? What is this about him hurting Justin?" Ginny whispered trying to not draw attention to herself.

"Didn't you hear? The chamber opened again last night. After everyone saw Justin's teasing Harry about the whole Parseltongue Malfoy incident. The whole Castle thinks he is the Heir of Slytherin and opened the chamber. "

"It's not him!" Ginny exclaimed much louder than she intended. Hermione looked worried at Harry to see if he noticed the outburst. His head stayed huddled with Ron and Hermione sat back a little more relaxed.

"Well, I know that, no need to shout. Anyway, I am sure this will all come to a head and be over soon. I think this will all resolve itself by the New Year, there is no need to worry."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just am. Don't worry about what I know and how I know it. Focus on your schoolwork," Hermione's voice was calm and steady. It would be easy to take her assurances and let go of all her fear and apprehension. "Go get to class, you don't want to be late for Professor Binns."

Ginny looked down to gather her things and noticed her History of Magic book was sitting on top of her diary. Tom's voice yelling at her to "Let go" from the bathroom refilled her ears. Heir of Slytherin, Chamber of Secrets, Parseltongue. She saw herself hissing into the faucet. She heard the echoing voice telling something to open.

No. It couldn't be. Slowly pieces fell into place. No, Tom was helping her. He came into the bathroom to try and stop her from losing time.

But then why did Tom tell her to let go? Her body went clammy and started to burn at the same time. Sweat formed on her brow and she brushed it away with her shaking hand.

"Yes, you are right Hermione, I do need to be going," Ginny stood up. Ron, finally noticing she was sitting with them, nodded acknowledging her departure. Ginny walked as fast as she could to class without attracting attention. She sat in her seat in the back of Professor Binn's class and pulled out the diary.

"Tom," she wrote. No response.

"TOM," she wrote again. No response. She lost what little patience she had remaining. Doubt swirled around her head. "Tom, I swear to you, talk to me or else you will become kindling in the common room."

"Ginny, what is wrong? Why are you upset? Did you lose more time?"

"Yes, of course, I lost more time you were there! Why were you there? How were you there?"

"What do you mean?"

"I heard you. I saw myself. Only I wasn't myself. Something was controlling me. Something was moving my body and making me make these sounds. It wasn't my voice. Then you were there." Doubt replaced anger. She felt the ink flow like venom from her pen.

"Ginny I have no idea what you are talking about."

"I heard you! You were there. I don't know if you were there when I saw all this or if you were in the memory but YOU WERE THERE." Rage filled Ginny. Her face turned hot and she kicked her foot into the side of the desk in frustration.

No response.

"TOM."

"Yes, yes I was there. But you were out of control. I had to help you from hurting anyone else. Ginny please, I only want to help you."

Seeing his words admit he was present helped defuse the situation as her rage subsided.

"No more lies. What is the Chamber of Secrets? Who is the Heir of Slytherin? Who are you?"

"I am Tom. You know me. I am your friend."

"Who are you, Tom." Her frustration rose again as he evaded her question.

"I am your simple friend who cares and wants to keep you close."

"Who ARE you, Tom?" She sat and waited for his response. She stared at the blank page for about three minutes until new words emerged.

"Why do you care so much? Is it because of that filthy mudblood Colin? Or your mudblood friend Hermione? I only want to protect you, Ginny. To keep you pure."

Her blood ran cold. Fear replaced any residual anger seeing the slur written in front of her face. How could Tom say those things? She went to slam his cover shut when a few final words poured onto the page stopping her.

"Ginny, you know better than to push me away. You poured all your secrets into me. All your hopes, your fears, your dreams. I know the real you Ginny Weasley and I do not have to keep who you are a secret."

All her previous words flooded the page. Paragraphs documenting her love of every inch of Harry Potter. Her shame of being poor. Her feelings of isolation and loneliness without the support of her brothers. Her fear of going crazy as she described the white room. Her confession to hurting Colin.

"You are mine, Ginny. I am not letting you go. I no longer need your permission to force you to do what I want. Write in me, don't write in me, I don't care. As long as I exist, and trust me you possess no magic powerful enough to destroy me, we are bound. If you try to tell anyone, your family, your precious Harry, even Dumbledore, I can turn every word you ever put into me against you. You will rot in the white room as the consequence."

The words on the page amplified. I WANT TO MARRY HARRY POTTER. I HURT COLIN. I AM GOING CRAZY. LOCKED IN A WHITE ROOM. WHOSE BLOOD ON MY CLOAK?

She was trapped.


	8. Exposed

Warmth surrounded Ginny. She leisurely stretched under her dow feather blankets. Her neck was sore from the angle she slept so she turned her head to feel the cool unused side of her pillow. She sighed in the deep contentment of her early morning nest. She was safe behind the velvet curtains of her four poster bed.

"We are bound."

"Shut up Tom."

Jerking slightly Tom's words replayed in her mind. The comfort of daybreak crashed into the jarring reality of the day. Her heart pounded in her chest as her mind raced thinking about nothing and everything at the same time. Contradictory thoughts fought for dominance. "They know. Everyone knows. Why doesn't anyone know? Why doesn't anyone see I need help."

Her stomach constricted twisting in knots as she shook her head trying to clear her thoughts. Anxiety palpated through her body. It was almost as if she was floating above herself as she watched oversized weights crush her body into the bed. Sitting upright in bed she reached to her side where Tom usually stayed at night. The emptiness helped abate some of the anxious energy threatening to overtake her.

Three days ago she locked him in the bottom of her trunk. She leaned over her bent knees as she gripped her ankles and waited for her heartbeat to return to a normal tempo. Tom lay dormant wrapped in an old torn cloak, tied with hair ribbons, and stuffed into a fraying jumper. He can't control her anymore.

"As long as I exist we are bound."

"I can't hear you."

"Then why are you responding?"

A cold draft blew rustled through her bed curtains chilling and causing her to shudder. Shaking the cold off she slid off her bed and dressed in a frenzied hurry, desperate to chase away the chill by the fire. Stuffing some unread letters from home into her satchel she walked into a quiet common room. Her favorite worn chair waited for her by the roaring morning fire. All the chairs were deep crimson red with gold rivets but this particular chair enabled her to sink deeper allowing her feet to dangle. There was something comforting about feeling small and surrounded in an oversized space. Nestling her feet under her body she let her head fall into the lumpy armrest as she gazed into the flames. She watched as the logs broke apart from the burning coal and blazing embers. The smoke spiraled dancing in vertical patterns escaping into the chimney's flue.

"No escape."

"Really Tom, this is getting boring. I don't see you being able to do anything other than sitting with my smelly used socks."

"Just you wait child, just you wait."

Blood rushed away from her face leaving her cheeks cold. Despite being a foot from the heat emanating off the flames the warmth was unable to reach her. Numbness spread throughout her body. Pinching her palm she let the pain bring her back to the common room. She forced herself awake from a horrible night terror.

"Ginny? Why are you ready so early?" Percy came up behind the chair with arms full of parchment. Ginny didn't break her gaze from the fire and shrugged her shoulders not wanting to speak.

"Do you not feel well?" Percy shifted the parchment freeing a hand. He swept the back of his hand across her forehead gauging her temperature. She unwittingly moved her forehead into the warmth and comfort of his hand. "You feel cold. Are there enough blankets in your room? You look so pale."

Shrugging again Ginny yelled inside her head for him to leave her alone while somehow simultaneously smothering her. She wanted to say something. To unburden herself and tell him everything. Sitting upright she broke her gaze from the fire and looked at her brother. Her brother with his proper haircut, horned rimmed glasses, pressed robes, and a gleaming prefect badge. Opening her mouth to speak she shut it again. What would she even say? Anything. Saying anything was better than feeling like this for one extra moment. Ginny pushed herself up in her seat and looked at Percy. Beneath the controlled calculating demeanor, she saw worry and fear. Was he worried about her? Yes. She needs to tell him what has been going on with Tom.

"Percy comes one we will be late!" Oliver stood by the portrait holding his own armful of parchment. "These routes won't design themselves."

"Honestly, Oliver," Percy tensed his shoulders and removed his glasses pinching his nose. He turned to face his friend with huffiness dripping from his voice. "Five minutes with my sister will not destroy your precious self-imposed daily timetable."

Oliver huffed irritated in response. Percy turned around to Ginny but all he found was an abandoned seat with tear stains on the armrest.

-G-G-G-

Ginny moved through the halls lost in the fog of her thoughts. Twisting and turning she walked deeper through the hallways and corridors. She tried to evade the intrusive noise bombarding her thoughts.

"You can walk all day but I can still feel you."

"Shut up Tom."

"It really is cute how you think you can avoid me."

"I don't care."

"Perhaps Harry would be interested in knowing how often you watch him while he studies. He might be flattered to know how much you admire and adore him."

Ginny stopped walking and sighed leaning into the stone wall for support. Shaking her head she continued walking without responding to Tom.

"Perhaps Dumbledore would like to know how many students you have hurt so far."

Ginny found herself in front of the library as Madam Pince opened the door. She smiled down at Ginny happy to see someone waiting for her early on a Saturday morning.

"Good morning! Here for some early preparations? Can I help you find anything today?"

Ginny moved past her grunting a noncommittal response as she kept her gaze on the floor. Surrounded by hundreds of worn and well-loved books piled six feet high in cherry red wooden bookcases. She selected Uncommon Charms from a Meddlesome Mind from one of the stacks and kept walking. Her mind felt very meddlesome today, every day since her fight with Tom. This might help her push him away.

Ginny worked her way to the table wedged between the Restricted and the advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts sections. It was quiet back here because Lockhart's tests revolved around his biographies. Only Hermione or serious N.E.W.T students ventured this deep in the stacks looking for supplementary material. She pulled out her first unread letter. It was from her Dad. It had been weeks since she had responded to him. Guilt from his words "never trust anything without a brain" twisted her gut seeing his familiar handwriting. She put it away resolving to respond tomorrow. She turned to her Mum's letter with the familiar cursive oversized loopy handwriting. She traced the G in her name and smiled at the extra curl her Mum always made at the base of the G.

Dear Ginny,

Please let us know if you want to join us in Egypt over the Holiday. Percy, the twins, and Ron have already said no so you would have a chance to have Bill all to yourself. I miss you so much dear but I know you are having fun and many adventures with all your new friends. Try to keep up with your classes and make time for studying, I know how easy it is for you to get distracted with an audience. I am sure you are holding court nightly in the common room keeping everyone in stitches.

Her mom prattled on. Ginny did not have the heart to correct her misperceptions about her time at Hogwarts. She lied through omission in her responses. She filled her letters home with assurances she was finding time to study and proclamations of missing the Burrow and home.

"You can't escape me. As long as you exist I will find you."

Ginny sighed, sat aside her letters, and opened the library book to the first chapter: Biological Jinxes and Hexes. She needed a new spell to practice to drown out the yelling in her head. The Bat-Bogey hex is a delicate and potentially lethal hex for nonhuman creatures...

-G-G-G-

The days dredged as the weight of Tom's interference pulled Ginny deeper into their internal arguments. Transfiguration and Charms offered the most relief. The mental and magic energy required to cast the spells was usually enough to keep Tom at bay. Herbology, Potions, and History of Magic classes relied on theoretical understanding and practice. Without the extra magical exertion, she found herself struggling to keep Tom out of her mind.

"And in 1387 the magical economy experienced significant disruption based on speculative trading of soap and bubble subsidies," Professor Binns stood in the front of the class lecturing in his typical monotone and dry voice. Ginny looked around and saw her classmates struggling to stay awake. Beryl sat next to her upright with her eyes glazed over. A small sliver of drool dripped from the left corner of her mouth resulting in a small puddle on her parchment.

"He hasn't changed a single word in over 40 years."

Ginny didn't respond. She grabbed her wand by her side and attempted to turn the tight spiral formation of the Bat-Boogey. She pushed her magic from her palm to the tip of her wand and then pulled it back to maintain tight control. She focused on not allowing the spell to cast by releasing any magic.

"Such a shame you are going to fail everything. All these distractions are weighing you down, aren't they? You know, you can just give in. You don't have to fight anymore. I can take care of you love. It can be like before."

Ginny felt fire explode within her chest. Her anger was making it harder to keep the magic from escaping her wand so she opened her palm dropping it to the floor.

"Anger over the rising prices of soap led Podmoreous Stodgins to conjure a cloud of soap in the middle of the primary trading district dispensing soap to anyone who past. The ability to obtain unlimited soap caused the price to plummet in what is now referred to as the great Soap Blizzard of 1378."

"Tsk tsk tsk. So much anger in you Ginny. Be careful. You don't want to loose time again by giving into your emotions."

Buzzing and pressure surrounded Ginny. She now recognized Tom's presence descending and surrounding her. No. She wasn't going to give in. Grabbing her hand she pinched the center of her palm. The pain re-centered her focus. Closing her eyes she pictured the burrow. Flying. Apple orchards. Mentally she took herself through the steps to a feint. She pictured the way she had to grip the broom to not fall during the sharp turn. Left over right instead of her typical flight pattern of right over left. Forgo speed for increased control closer to her core.

The buzzing and pressure intensified. She needed something else. She needed more. She picked her discarded wand off the floor and started to perform the Bat-Boogey again. She pushed the spell from palm to the tip of the wand and back again. She mouthed the incantation under her breath. She could feel the buzz and pressure abating until a sudden surge surrounded her. Startled, she lost control of the spell and light shot from her wand hitting Beryl on the side of her sleeping face.

Beryl screamed as a small bat emerged from her nose. Ginny brought her wand back to her lap and sat wide eyed at the scene she inadvertently caused. The entire class jumped to attention. Beryl looked around wildly trying to figure out what was causing one small bat at a time to fly from her nose. The bats were so small, the boogies appeared to be an out of control runny nose. She raised her hand as redness spread across her face and the back of her neck.

"Professor Binn, I don't feel well, may I please go to Madam Pomfrey?"

Professor Binn nodded affirmation and brushed her aside. Beryl went running from the room as the rest of the class looked around trying to figure out what happened. Ginny shrunk into her seat as Beryl left the room.

She hurt someone without Tom's interference. She was completely present and aware and she hexed a friend. She never thought she would be this person, someone who would hex people. The energy of pushing Tom out of her mind and refocusing her thoughts was taking a toll on her mind and body. She noticed her inability to stop her hands from shaking. She knew her eyes were sinking into her pale face and she was losing weight.

The bell rang. Ginny gathered her things rushing to leave. Everyone else lagged behind to discuss Beryl's abrupt departure. No one recognized the poorly executed hex. Everyone seemed to assume she had taken ill. Ginny could not keep this up. She had to tell someone. Even if showing Tom to someone meant exposing everything she had done. She walked off determined to find someone and get the whole charade over with. Now to find anyone she could trust.


	9. Queens and Knights

The ruckus of a confused classroom amplified through the stone corridors around Ginny. Fighting groups of voices saying "sick", "hurt", and "jinxed" flooded into Ginny's ears. The gossip around Beryl dissipated while conversations about Harry and muggleborn Justin Finch-Fletchley increased at an alarming rate. Stories bounced between vicious ears excited to hear the latest on the deepening feud. Tracing her fingers against the etching of cold hardened stone walls Ginny found a quiet corner to collect her thoughts. Warm colorful streams of light flickered from jeweled colored cut glass as a three-paned series drew her attention away from the chaos.

A woman with a crown stood on top of brilliant flames encroaching the bottom of her evergreen dress. Wood stacked in a circle at the woman's bare feet as she looked into the distance beseeching someone to save her. Ginny stared at the woman's delicate ivory face. It was full of determination and hope despite the flames spreading closer to her feet. The anger and hatred surrounding her was palpable. She stood tall and patient waiting for someone to break her free from the encroaching pain.

Then the woman's face transformed from proud acceptance to elation. A tall steely determined knight with golden flowing hair galloped towards her. His chest bore a ruby cross over his white tunic as he carried a shield with ruby and white stripes. His right hand held a sword shining crimson with drops of blood dripping from the tip. No army, fire, or king would come between him and this woman.

Ginny's eyes flitted to the final stained glass pane. The woman and man embraced away from the chaos of the fire and armies. His long flowing hair cascaded down his back. His arms wrapped tight around the woman's waist as he pulled her into his chest. Flaming red roses blossoming and a sleeping greyhound replaced fire at their feet. The woman's face softened with ecstasy and joy. The burden of the heavy crown fell beneath her left foot. She looked into her knight's face full of hope and new beginnings.

The last hopeful image of the woman stayed in Ginny's head for the rest of the morning. Sitting in the courtyard the wind billowed past her face chapping her lips and nose. She bundled deeper into her cloak and woolen jumper. Ginny desperately wanted to go home and see her parents and Bill. Memories of last year's Christmas on the dragon reservation flooded back. Charlie took her out on his broom. He didn't laugh when she said she wanted to steer. Unbeknownst to her parents, he let her fly solo. Determined to turn her into a seeker, like him, he charmed small rocks in the air for her to catch like a snitch. It would be even better to see Bill in Egypt.

It had been years since they could afford a visit to Bill. If anyone could help her unravel this rat's nest it was her oldest brother. While she loved all her brothers, there was something special about Bill. More than an older brother he treated her almost as if he was her second Dad. She crept into his bed during hot summer nights when she had nightmares. She ran to his arms for comfort when the twins pranked her or Ron ignored her. He had a simple way of making everything seem different and easier to manage.

"No one will understand."

No one would understand. She couldn't go home with Tom in her trunk. She struggled to work up her resolve to write home to Mum and tell her she wanted to come home. She knew going home meant confessing about Tom and writing in a book that wrote back. She needed help figuring out how to explain this. She needed help from one of her brothers.

Ron made the most sense. He was the least likely to judge and had Hermione at his disposal. The trouble with Ron was the one-third of a trio. A trio that included the last person in the world she wanted to find out how stupid and naïve she had been. Even if Harry was not present when she told them, there was no way they would keep a secret from him.

The twins were the next logical choice. Yet, they were taking the threats from Percy to leave her alone to the letter. Every time she tried to talk to them they would walk in the other direction late for a very important appointment.

That left Percy. Her stomach churned thinking about confessing to Percy. It wasn't that he wouldn't help her. He was the best suited to help her outside of Ron with Hermione. It was the inevitable disappointed expression he would wear as she confessed to writing in a diary that spoke back that she wanted to avoid. The lecture he would give on dangers of "ignoring father's wise lessons" she would need to sit through. No, not Percy.

"You are an arrogant insolent child if you think you can outlast me."

Sighing Ginny's stomach dropped. The cold wind blustered past her heating face. The noise of rustling branches and whistling air helped keep Tom's voice at bay. Her body shook from anxiety rather than the winter wind. The trembling started slowly, first her feet and then her legs. Before she knew it her hands and upper body joined in. The weight and enormity of the situation flooded over her.

She was not in control. He trapped her. With no other way out she had to tell Percy. Gathering her things she trudged her way to his makeshift "office". His office consisted of a self-conjured desk and chair by the witch statue with the humped back. The Head Boy and Girl kept required office hours down the hall, but Percy insisted on being available at regular intervals to offer his help. Fred and George liked to snigger behind his back saying he was developing his future as a brainless ministry whipping boy. He crafted his talent for following someone else's orders.

Percy sat in a wobbling conjured chair next to the cupboard. The chair had one leg slightly shorter than the others and rocked off-balanced as he tried to maintain his upright rigid posture. Ginny gently rapt on the wall next to him and he looked up from his parchment to focus on her face.

"Ginny! What a surprise! Do you need anything? Are you still feeling ill? Do you want some more pepper-up?"

"No, I am fine. I wanted to talk to you about something that has been bothering me."

"Oh, I was expecting this." He pulled his glasses off his face and started to clean them using a gold and maroon checkered handkerchief from his breast pocket. He looked through the lenses into the light inspecting them for spots.

"You were?"

"Yes, I thought you might be a little upset about going off to have an adventure in Egypt while your little friend stayed behind in the hospital." Guilt flooded Ginny remembering Colin. She forgot all about her friend still in the hospital, in the hospital because she hurt him.

"I told you they would never understand."

"Yes, you are right, I am a little upset still about Colin." Ginny looked down at the circles she drew with her feet.

"It's alright Gin. He will be right as rain soon," Percy drew her into a large awkward hug. Ginny's back stiffened in the embrace and she felt her limbs go rigid. Percy patted her arm twice when he realized she was not relaxing into the embrace. "Have you written back to Mum and Dad? Do you want to go to Egypt with them to see Bill? It would do you some good. You are so pale and look too thin. You need some of Mum's cooking to plump you back up. And Mum could use the cheering up and break."

"What do you mean?"

"Well after all the stress of raising the lot of us! This will be her first relaxing Christmas in over 16 years. Last year doesn't count. Remember how hurt Charlie was right before they arrived? Mum wrote to me she spent the entire visit worried sick. Think about it: no twins blowing anything up, no Ron to placate, no Charlie lighting himself on fire. Mum will actually be able to relax and enjoy a special day."

Ginny's stomach dropped. She had not considered the impact the secret would have on Mum. She only thought about the trouble she would get in for writing in a book that spoke back. Her Mum that worked so hard and never complained. Or at least never complained more than she should as the Mum of Fred and George. How could she take this away from her? How could she go home and tell her Mum that she had a talking voice in her head? A voice who showed her a white room and causing her to hurt her classmates? It would break her heart.

"Actually, I needed help to figure out how to tell Mum I want to stay here. I have important studies I need to focus on but I don't want her to worry," Percy studied her face and expression. Ginny shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"But you spent every day holed up in the library for the past few weeks. How are you behind? Do you need a tutor? I know you are too young to worry about your O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, but the foundational education has a critical impact on your base understanding for years to come. You can't get behind now."

"I am fine, I just want more time to keep studying," Ginny shifted her weight between her feet desperately wanting to leave the conversation. "You know, so I can keep myself in a good position to impress my professors and follow in certain footsteps."

Percy leaned back on the unsteady chair and laughed. "I knew you were full of good sense. I tell you what, I will write Mum and tell her we all want to stay together in a spirit of sibling camaraderie. This way nothing will appear out of the ordinary and no one will worry."

"Thanks, Percy, I better be getting back to my studies," Ginny walked away with her head spinning.

The weeks leading up to Christmas holiday passed in similar fashion. Ginny avoided talking to her family and classmates. She spent her time either staring at the stain glass queen or escaping to the library. With her isolation deepening she was thrust into rising water. She knew she was barely treading water. Tom continued to invade her mind sending her down a spiral of shame.

The shame felt different than embarrassment. It felt different than fear or regret. Shame carried with it a new wave of indescribable sensations. It palpated. It pulsed through her bloodstream. It hurt. Every day Tom stayed locked in the trunk he fought stronger against her will trying to break her down.

Tom started to invade her dreams. Ginny's roommates had to cast silencing charms over her bed curtains to mute the thrashing and midnight screams. Ginny often woke in puddles of cold sweat with her heart racing and skin crawling.

Ginny prepared for another difficult night. Beryl glowered at her before yanking her bed curtains tight. Mira shrugged off Beryl's foul temper unconvinced Ginny was the cause of her illness in History of Magic.

"Do you want me to cast a silencing charm?" Mira asked Ginny with an apprehensive soft voice.

"Yes please," Ginny looked at her comforter as she responded. Her heart sank knowing she was unable to control her increasing out of control behavior.

"Are you sure I can't get your brother? Maybe a calming draught from Madam Pomphrey?" Mira's face was full of concern. She reached out to try and touch the edge of Ginny's curtains trying to push them aside to get a better look at Ginny's paling face.

"No. Please. I just need some sleep. I will be fine."

"Fine. Of course. I will show you fine tonight."

A chill flurried down Ginny's back. She curled into a tight ball huddle below her blankets. Her body shook with anxiety and she tried to focus on her breath to calm down.

Then everything stopped. The buzz and pressure returned. Ginny knew what was happening now. She knew Tom was taking over but she was tired. Tired of the daily fight. Tired of his constant barrage of comments. Tired of him lording her sanity and her words over her.

She pictured the stain glass picture of the woman. She felt the fire rising at her feet. She could see the border of armies preventing her knight from reaching her. The pressure and buzzing intensified. He was coming. He was swelling around her like the fire at the Queen's feet. She tried to picture her knight breaking through the siege. All she could see were her family and classmates' angry judgmental faces. Sobbing she felt the pressure and buzzing surge as she lost the image of the Queen and the rising mob.

Everything went black.


	10. Chapter 10

The buzzing and pressure stopped as bright lights flooded into Ginny's face. Her surroundings came into focus as she walked towards the Great Hall. The twins frog armed Harry as they hoisted him so his feet dragged above the ground. Their own feet moved in a synchronized exaggerated wide arch.

"Make way for the heir of Slytherin!" Fred's voice boomed down the hall bouncing between the stone arches as they entered the Great Hall. Ginny stopped walking as the gravity of the situation hit her with full force. Her breath caught in her throat causing it to constrict until Harry's laugh brought her to the present. They don't know. It was a joke. A sick twisted Fred and George joke. A joke that typically would be hysterical in the due to it's inappropriate nature. A joke that wasn't funny when she knew the truth. When she knew how tainted she was.

"So who needs to watch their back next? Have George or I made your list?" Fred asked as he plopped Harry at the table between himself and George. Harry smirked without a response and switched seats to be next to Ron.

"Yeah first you got rid of Norris. Then twerp with the camera – no offense Gin-Gin. Then you tossed that tosser who kept picking fights and a ghost to boot!" Fred held his spoon under Harry's mouth like a microphone. Harry brushed the spoon out of his face while loading his plate with rosemary pork and mashed potatoes. Ginny did the same as she tried to process what Fred said. Who else did she petrified? Who did she hurt this time? Which ghost? What tosser picking fights? Justin?

"Who are you attacking next?" Fred continued. This was going on far too long. Ginny felt a twinge of annoyance.

"Don't you see. They don't care"

"Oh, don't," Ginny wailed. She had enough. Did they not realize how serious this all was? Anger and frustration bubbled up from Ginny's stomach as her right hand clenched her wand. How could they mock any of this? Did they not care how hard containing all this is?

"They never cared."

George picked a clove of garlic off the table and started to chase Harry around. Everyone else may find this funny but no one else had Tom in their heads. No one else was losing time. No one else was trapped.

A few early evening Owls trickle in through the sunlit Great Hall window. Ginny recognized poor Errol's desperate flapping. He flew in through the giant window seconds before Filch finished closing it. He glided down on a wind vortex created by the pressure of the window closing and the opening of the massive doors. He landed on their table and collapsed hooting in a fit in the middle of the buttered mashed potatoes. Ginny saw her name tied to a roll of parchment on his left leg. Gently removing the letter she pet Errol's exhausted head. Tutting at him to sooth his obvious distress from the long flight. She gave the old owl bits of pork loin as she unrolled the letter scanning to the signature. Seeing it was from her Mum she started to read.

Dear Ginny,

I received Percy's letter informing me your intentions to stay at school with your brothers. I won't lie, your father and I will miss you (as well as Bill). But I understand why you want to stay behind with your friends and brothers.

Percy sent me a glowing report on how hard you have been studying in the library. Please don't over do it. You have years ahead for studies. Try to get out with your friends and don't put too much pressure on yourself. Don't worry about making mistakes, they are how we learn. You don't need to be perfect and ask for help when overwhelmed. Don't forget to BREATHE! just like I taught you when you were a little girl. Four breaths in, two to hold, and eight to release.

I love and am so proud of the young lady you are becoming. I will miss you over the holiday. Please try to have fun and don't live in the library. Percy and Bill did not receive perfect scores throughout school and they turned out fine.

Love,

Mum

Ginny picked up her things and rose from the table. The letter confirmed that her Mum suspected something was wrong. Malfoy glowered at them from the Slytherin table. Ginny stuck up her nose and glowered right back. What is he looking at? Why does he care if they are picking fun?

Unless he knows? Coldness washed over her like a bucket of icy water dumped on her head. His family, obsessed with dark artifacts, did he sense the darkness emanating off her? Her scowl fell as the blood drain from her face and her cheeks turned ice cold. Her hands were shaking. No. He couldn't know. Then why else would he be starring? He knows. Everyone knows. They must be able to feel the darkness

"You are right. They do know. Your mum, your classmates, your teachers. Everyone. And they will lock you away in the white room."

She found herself walking back to the stain glass window and looked up at her Queen. Ginny shook her head and breathed in pushing out her stomach. She counted to four, held her breath, and then pushed the air out sucking her stomach back towards her spine as she counted to eight. Her Mum taught her this trick when she threw fits as a little girl when overwhelmed by her emotion. Tom's voice faded with every repetition of the breathing exercise. As the calmness with her breath washed over her she felt Tom pushed further and further away.

"No. This isn't me. Tom isn't me. I don't have to be like this anymore. I am not evil. I am not dark. I am still good," Ginny pushed positive thoughts to the front of her mind. Her anger and shame started to dissipate as she focused telling herself, "I can be strong like the Queen."

She re-examined the first pane. The expression on the Queen's face was by no means serene, but it was also calm and in control. Surrounded by chaos and turmoil her eyes were searching into the distance. She looked past the armies, fighting, and fire. The Queen wasn't focused on the terror surrounding her but on her salvation coming in the distance.

She had to stay in control. The angrier she felt, the more she gave into the shame, the louder Tom's voice boomed within her head. Broomsticks, the burrow, walking to Otter St. Catchery with her Dad, throwing a quaffle. She focused on everything good in her life. The anxiety stayed like an old friend in the pit of her stomach. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron. Her mind slowed enough so she could catch her breath. Blustered by her calmer thoughts, Ginny walked back to her dorm.

Mira and Beryl sat on the floor wrapped in an embrace crying. Adelaide and Xenia sat to the side looking forlorn and somber. When Ginny walked in the room Beryl huffed in her direction and turned her back to face away from the intrusion. She sobbed heavier into Mira's shoulder as Mira looked helplessly at her roommates.

"Mira's parents are pulling her from school," Adelaide stated without emotion. "She is going to Beauxbatons Academy in the spring."

"Why?" Ginny asked. The scathing looks told her she had said exactly the wrong thing. Beryl sobbed harder as Mira patted her shoulder.

"Have you not noticed the students and our house ghost turned into statues? Or are you too good for the entire school?" Beryl's turned and spit her venom-laced words towards Ginny. "I don't know why you are bothering telling her. It isn't like she cares about any of us."

Ginny slinked out of the dorm back into the empty common room.

"No one cares about you. No one will ever care about you."

Pressure mounted. Ginny fought to regain her breath. Broomsticks, the burrow, baking pies. She put her hand on her stomach and breathed counting to four as her hand pushed outward. One. Two. She released her breath through her mouth feeling her hand pull into her navel. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. She tried to keep her breath even and calm. But her panic rose and soon everything went black.

The pressure and buzzing subsided. She awoke to the twins dancing around the common room with Percy wedged between them. Everyone, including Ginny, wore new jumpers from Mum. Harry estacally sat in a brilliant emerald green jumper that matched his eyes. A disgruntled looking Ron in his typical maroon monstrosity slumped in a chair next to him. Harry looked ten years younger. He sat tall in the chair instead of his typical hunched posture. His entire face was lit with laughter. He threw his head back observing Percy trying to extricate himself from the twins. Hermione sat next to Ginny with a serious look on her face as she held a hand of exploding snap cards. Ginny looked down and noticed she was in the midst of a game of cards.

"Who did you hurt this time child?"

A cold wind that only Ginny could feel blew through the room.

"It wasn't me," thought Ginny arguing with Tom internally. "I am not the one hurting people. I am good."

"Think what you want my dear, I know the truth."

Ginny counted the cards in her hands. Counting helped. She stopped worrying about Tom in her head and focused on her breath. One, two, three, four. She breathed in. One, two. She held her breath. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. She exhaled through her mouth. Feeling recentered she examined the cards in her hands. She was about to win the game.

"So, er, Hermione, any more excitement?" Ginny tried to sound nonchalant.

"Hm? What?"

"Well, er, what I mean is, any more events with students or cats or ghosts ending up petrified?"

"No, not since Justin and Nearly Headless. Why? Did you hear something?"

"No, just worried. I am a little stressed."

Hermione gave her an understanding smile. She played her Ace and the cards in the center of the table exploded singeing the tips of Hermione's hair. Hermione laughed heartily.

"Well played Ginny!" she exclaimed her voice full of mirth and merriment. "What a wonderful Christmas day. We should all get down to the feast. Ron, Harry are you both ready to go?"

Ginny looked out the window. It was dark. She had missed the start of the holiday break. George and Fred stopped wrapping an irate Percy in garland. They sprinted to the portrait door towards the Great Hall. Harry and Ron chased after the twins while Hermione and Ginny helped untie Percy.

Ginny, Hermione, and Percy walked to the sparsely populated Great Hall. The attacks caused most students to head home for the holiday break. Mira would probably not be the only student to stay home or transfer for the spring holiday. Hermione and Percy discussed a Daily Prophet article on the rights and classification of Merepeople. Ginny tuned them out while she tried to focus on staying calm and happy. This became less difficult once they entered the Great Hall.

A giant tree filled with fairy lights stood tall in the center of the room. Warm snowflakes gently fell from the darkened cloudy ceiling. Hagrid looked at their table smiling as he emptied a goblet the size of her head in one fell gulp. Professor Flitwick and McGongall sat with their hats and glasses askew. They laughed at something Professor Sprout said. The merriment of the hall and staff was contagious. Ginny found an empty seat wedging herself between Ron and Percy. Percy and Hermione were still deep in conversation as Ginny rested her head on Percy's shoulder.

Percy looked down at her head and smiled. It had been a long time since Ginny had shown her typical physical affection towards any of her brothers. Percy stopped talking with Hermione and wrapped his arm around Ginny's shoulder. Pulling her closer he placed a kiss on her head and whispered Merry Christmas into her hair. Ginny let her head fall on her older brother's chest as she breathed in the familiar Weasley scent of his new jumper. A tear escaped the corner of her tightly closed eyes. She desperately tried to hold onto the feelings of Christmas, family, and home.

The rest of dinner proceeded uneventfully. Everyone was too busy stuffing their faces full of food and cracking jokes. No one to noticed Ron, Hermione, and Harry sneaking off halfway through dinner. Percy, George, Fred and Ginny walked back to the dorm early so Percy could start his evening rounds. Fatigue washed over the four siblings. George pulled Ginny onto his back to carry her upside down laughing to the steps of her empty dorm.

For once, sleep came easily to Ginny. She did not wake throughout night screaming or covered in sweat. Morning greeted her with the silent peace. Gentle light flickered in through gaps in her bed curtains. Dressing quickly, she hurried down to the common room hoping to catch her brothers. Yesterday reminded her how isolated she allowed herself to become. How lonely she felt without her family. Tom's voice was absent and her heart swelled with joy anticipating a day with her brothers.

Ron and Harry huddled close together whispering. Ginny crept up behind them ready to spring with her cat-like reflexes and scare them.

"She will be in the hospital almost a month," Ron said with tightness in his voice. "How will we get through potion?"

Ginny stopped in her tracks and crouched down behind the chair to eavesdrop.

"Hermione is going to flip once she realizes she will miss the first few weeks of term." Harry replied with an even nonchalant tone. "We should bring her homework to the hospital so she doesn't go berserk."

"Good idea mate. Come on, I want some bangers and mash"

Ginny felt her heart tighten in her chest. How did Hermione get hurt? She didn't think she lost time. She thought she finally found control over Tom with her breathing exercises. She failed. Shame crashed into her as she felt her mood spiraled down. The tightness extended from her heart into her lungs. Breathing became harder as she sat gasping for breath.

"You hurt everyone around you. What's the point of fighting?"

No! She had to keep fighting. Tom was not stronger than her. She vaulted to her feet and ran back to her dorm tearing into her trunk. She threw broken quills, extra jumpers, and socks to the floor until she found what she was looking for. Sitting in her old torn robe, still smelling slightly of dragon dung, was Tom. She grabbed him and marched down towards Myrtle's bathroom. She sensed she had to go back to where the whole horrid nightmare began. One way or another, by the end of today, she was going to be free.


	11. Alone

Racing away from the common room Ginny barreled towards Myrtle's bathroom. Her senses were on fire as she left the portrait.

"Good morning," sang the Fat Lady. Each syllable warbled at a higher C octave. Ginny jumped at the sound of the screeching operatic voice behind her back. She sped away clutching Tom harder underneath the dung-scented cloak.

"Well, that was rude!" the Fat Lady chided towards Sir Cadogan who was visiting an adjoining portrait. "You would think she could at least acknowledge my greeting with a nod."

Ginny didn't care who she offended. She did not have time to worry about hurt feelings or misperceptions. She raced to the marble stair case.

"I am still here."

Visions of several sleepwalking versions of herself projected across the hall. Real Ginny felt ice pulse through her veins as she watched herself. She painted words on the wall where Mrs. Norris was found. She walked like a marionette pulled by an invisible force covered in blood and feathers. Her body sat slumped in a corner with a vacant expression glazing her eyes. Real Ginny closed her eyes and ploughed through the hall to escape the visions. She focused on the apple tree outside her window back home. She counted the branches on the barren winter tree. She fixated on an old bird's nest brittle sticks breaking apart in the winter sun.

Bearing down she scrambled along the slick marble stairs two at a time. At the foot of the stairs the duplicative Ginnys disappeared. She stopped running, gasping the banister desperate to catch her breath. She pulled herself over to the stone wall and leaned into the solidness of the wall to calm her heart.

"I know what you are trying to do. It won't t work."

Pressure and buzzing surrounded Ginny. No. She could fight this. She needed to calm her mind. Tom was not going to win. The burrow. Breathe one, two, three, four. Mum baking. Hold one, two. Dad reading her a book. Release one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

The petrification victims stood silently in front of her. First Mrs. Norris flew through the air until she hung immobile on the wall with Filch wailing at her feet. Colin, with his face behind his camera, smiled at her before lying wooden on the staircase. Justin's prone body indistinguishable underneath Nearly Headless Nick's translucent stone form. Nick's head stood stiffly instead of bobbing above his shoulders. Headless roosters drenched in blood scattered on the floor across the entrance to the hall.

"Look. Look at everyone you hurt. All the lives you destroyed."

Ginny closed her eyes. She pictured Fred and George tying Percy in garland. She watched Ron sulking in his maroon jumper. She smelled the Weasley burrow as she buried her face in Percy's chest. She saw Harry's eyes. His beautiful emerald green eyes smiling. His usual sullen mouth was smiling and laughing. His brilliant bold face looking years younger when he showed his true spirit and smiled.

Ginny kept walking. She was so close. She could get past Tom. This will be behind her. The pressure intensified as a fog descended obstructing her sight. Every step felt as if she was walking through mud puddles, struggling to lift her feet. Slipping she fell and slammed her knee into the hard stone floor tearing her tights. Blood escaped an old scab from her fall on the borrowed broom. The warm blood trickled down her leg and the pain refocused her mind on the present allowing her to break through the fog.

She can do this. She can get up. She can fight. Pushing herself onto her hands and knees she felt her empty stomach ripple with nausea. Her intestines constricted and contracted. Sharp pains radiated throughout her lower abdomen. She will do this. She will get up. She will fight.

Gritting her teeth she crawled on one hand as her other hand clutched the diary closer to her chest. Heat and pain radiated through the cloth burning her torso. Small pebbles from the stone floor stuck in the flowing blood from her cut knee. The pain in her stomach stabbed like a knife cutting through her abdomen. One, two, three, four. Inhaling she re-centered her thoughts. She will not get angry. She will not give into the shame.

She will not fail.

Ginny reached the bathroom. She used the doorknob to pull her upper body upright. Her thighs wobbled unsteadily beneath her weight. Holding onto the doorknob she leaned her weight against the hard wooden door to catch her breath.

A barrage of images flashed in her mind. Harry read the details on her love for him wearing a disgusted horrified expression. Her Mum crouched in a corner with body-wracking sobs as a cold and expressionless Dumbledore expelled Ginny. Her father walked away leaving her alone in the white room. His voice echoing behind the closing door saying, "she isn't worth saving." Every possible image that could evoke an emotional reaction played in a loop.

"I WILL NOT FAIL!" Ginny shouted violently twisting the doorknob thrusting open Myrtle's bathroom door. She took the diary out of the cloak and threw it as hard as she could into the bathroom. With the skill of a chaser, the diary flew out of her hands in a perfect arch over the furthest stall from the doorway. The diary landed in the last stall with a loud wet plop as echoing splashing toilet water splattered the stall walls. Myrtle caterwauled and sobbing about the cruelty of pranksters targeting her sensitivities. Ginny slammed the bathroom door shut and held the doorknob tight. Her heart pounded in her ears.

Ginny released the door knob dropping the dung-scented cloak. She sprinted back to the dorm with the portraits on the wall passing in a blur. She skidded on the stone in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady out of breath heavily panting.

"Bobbles, Gobstoppers, I forget just please let me in," she cried to the fat lady. Her face was white with consternation as she swayed unsteadily on her feet. She was about to start begging when Percy opened the portrait to leave the common room. Ginny sprinted past him through the opening without responding to his pleas for her to stop.

Ginny tore to the girl's dormitory stairs evading Percy and his questions about what was wrong. She scurried up the steps as Percy lagged behind unable to keep up. As her back foot left the top stair the staircase transformed into a slide as Percy fell flat on his face and slip off the stairwell in a painful belly flop.

"Oy! Ginny! What's wrong? Come back!" His voice reverberating behind her.

Ginny didn't stop until she was in her deserted dorm slamming the door behind her. Her her lungs burned with every rapid intake of breath. Her heart raced so hard it was about to crack through her rib cage.

She was free. Something felt different. It was subtle. Her mind was clear for the first time in months. She tried to focus on something painful. She thought about how everything was her fault. She thought about how disappointed her Mum will be when she finds out. She thought about Harry reading that she loves him. She thought every horrible thought Tom pushed into her head.

But nothing triggered her. No matter how ashamed, angry, hurt, emotional she forced herself to become she didn't lose control. The pressure didn't descend. She didn't lose time. Tom's voice was gone. Laughing she crumpled to the floor with her back sliding against the door. Tom was gone! She did it! She was free!

Exhausted Ginny collapsed into a ball and fell into a dreamless sleep huddled on the floor. For the first time since school started, she was completely alone.

She woke to a flat and numb world. Tom was gone but the residual effects surrounded Ginny like a dense fog clouding her senses. Days turned into nights and nights back into days. Noise, music, light, food all felt duller and lifeless. It was almost as if she was looking at the world through a pane of dirty glass obstructing her view of the sun.

School term restarted. The routine of classes helped ease Ginny back to the world of the living. She felt herself slow coming out of her shell. One morning at breakfast Fred and George were taking the mickey out of Ron. The Cannons lost by over 450 points to the Harpies in a spectacular defeat. This propelled the Harpies above Puddlemere United for the league title. Ron, still aggravated over Hermione's extended jaunt in the hospital wing, grumbled over his porridge. Ginny's internal relief that Hermione suffered from self-inflicted potion damage did not extend to Ron's foul mood. He sat surrounded by a multitude of essays due the following morning and no help for revisions.

"You know we could have the Cannons play against someone more their speed next match." George watched Ron's face contort in annoyance.

"Right dear brother! But where could we find a team that played that piss poorly? We would have to search far and wide!" Fred held his hand turned over his forehead as if the mere thought of the task was so insurmountable it caused him to faint.

"They could start you two losers. Your ugly faces look enough like worn bludgers. Then the Cannons would be able to confuse any opponent have a chance." The words left Ginny's mouth before she realized what she was about to say. Ron, George, and Fred stopped eating and looked at her with their mouths gaping. "Well don't sit there with your mouths' hanging open, a spider is liable to crawl in. What? You never heard a funny joke before?"

All three of them laughed. Ron who had started drinking some milk spewed his drink through his nose. The milk sprayed the table causing Fred to laugh so hard he fell off his chair. George found that so funny he clutched his side as if in pain.

"Oy! Ginners! I don't know what got into you but I like it!" said Fred as he reached up from the floor and pulled himself upright. George continued laughing as tears trickled down his eyes. Ron grabbed napkins from several directions and tried to clean up his milk soaking his half completed parchments. He looked up at Ginny with brightness on his face amidst the chaos.

"I missed you, sis. Don't stop taking the mickey out of these numbskulls. Promise me." Ron said quietly with a seriousness reserved for late night conversations with Mum. Lightness filled Ginny. She beamed watching her brother's making fools of themselves in the middle of breakfast. The weight of battling Tom was lifting.

"Well as much as I love hanging out with you three idiots, I have to get to class." Ginny chugged the remnants of her milk and slammed the glass on the table standing tall beside them. She sauntered out of the Great Hall with more swagger than Oliver Wood after a winning game.

Ginny glided through classes that morning. Potions seemed clearer. Professor Snape's directions left her understanding why she was mincing the beetle eyes into fine slices rather than the book's instructions of large chunks. Her potion brewed to a translucent aquamarine which was close enough to the soft teal to earn her an approving silent nod from Professor Snape.

History of Magic was also more tolerable. Something about the goblin rebellion intrigued her today. Rather than focusing on keeping Tom out of her head, she was able to listen to Professor Binns' lecture. His voice was monotonous and the text was dull, but the subject matter was fascinating. She made several notes about Wizard-Goblin ownership rights for Bill's next letter. For once Ginny was in a good mood walking to Defense Against the Dark Arts. If Professor Binn's lessons were interesting perhaps Lockhart might not be a gigantic blowhard after all.

An hour and a half later Ginny realized her good mood could only mask so much incompetence in teaching. Walking out of the classroom, where she learned nothing beyond Professor Lockhart's favorite quill color for autographing muggle photos, she realized sometimes early impressions are correct.

Ginny walked into the hall looking at her pile of notes and books. She felt something soft and fuzzy hit her chest. Looking up the back of a blonde head with stringy long hair smacked into her face.

"Luna?" The blonde with hair draping over her face turned around.

"Hello, Ginny. Are we friends again?" Luna replied with no intonation of anger or resentment. Her voice carried her typical dreamy quality as if she were asking about the weather instead of the status of a long term friendship.

"When did we stop?"

"Well, I assumed when you stopped responding to my greetings and left me alone you no longer wished to be my friend." Luna looked at her deep in thought. "Oh well, I guess I made a false assumption. How are you?"

"Ladies!" boomed Professor Lockhart's voice as he stepped up to them. He stood behind Ginny's back facing Luna. Ginny's eyes burst as wide as saucers as she failed to contain a mischievous grin. "Have you decided which lucky fellow will be on the receiving end of your Valentine?"

"Well no! There is no one I wish to infect with Nargles in celebration of the beheading of a muggle religious icon." Luna replied in her dreamy voice as if what she was saying was the most basic of common knowledge.

"Erh, well, yes. Of course. Nargles."

"Yes, we really should cover those in your class. Secondary schools are a prime location for infestations. They attract to post-pubescent hormonal surges brought on by lust and mating rituals."

"Erh, well, that should be covered in Care for Magical Creatures." Ginny felt her shoulders begin to shake as she tried to contain her laughter. Over the years, she watched many adults walk into similar conversations with Luna. She bounced on her feet in anticipation of Professor Lockhart trying to navigate a Luna chat.

"No, I do not think so. Your class and defense tactics would be more appropriate. I will bring you some literature from my father during next lesson. It would be more interesting than reviewing your favorite quill selection." Luna's face crinkled in remembrance. Ginny found a reflection on a glass portrait to watch Professor Lockhart's face contort as he processed Luna's words. Ginny coughed to hide her escaping laughter.

"Well now, I must be going. Late for a meeting. Please don't forget to bring your Valentine and 3 sickles to next class. The lucky fellows will receive a special delivery during mealtimes. Try not to break too many hearts." Professor Lockhart turned confused on his heels and scurried away from the awkward conversation.

"Come on Luna, you can take that big brain of yours and help me come up with a Valentine." Ginny locked arms with Luna and leaned her head up onto her shoulder. "I am going to need some help from your hormonal Nargles to get the attention of a certain green-eyed boy."


	12. Anticipation

Luna's stringy blonde hair glittered as a crepuscular ray burst through the gray cloud coverage. The gentle golden light warmed the frigid February air. The blustery wind ceased as the temperature rose above freezing. A flock of yellowhammers warbled in melody. They skittered for food through winter barren bushes across the snow-dusted stone courtyard floor.

"I am glad we are together again," Luna said. She picked apart her hardened roll throwing crumbs to the little yellow birds.

"I am too," Ginny leaned her head onto Luna's shoulder and watched two yellowhammers fight over a small crumb. "How has your year been so far?"

"Lonely," The word hung in the air. Pangs of guilt and understanding hit Ginny's stomach.

"Mine too. How are your roommates? I don't think mine like me very well."

"They like to laugh. It is hard though because I can't tell if they are laughing with me or about me." Luna stopped picking the roll and shifted her weight underneath Ginny's head. She shook her off her shoulder. "That is okay, though, I don't mind. It gives me more time to read."

"Do you honestly not mind?" Luna started to comb through the long strands of copper hair with her delicate fingers. She parted Ginny's hair in three places and started to weave them into a loose plait.

"No. I do not think that I do." Luna continued weaving as Ginny twisted her body to give her better access to her hair. "I know I am different but I don't think I mind. I would rather know the truth about Nargles and Wackspurts than live unaware."

A wave of jealousy crashed into Ginny as she felt her shoulders tighten. How was Luna always able to be like this? How was she able to float through the world so unaffected by others? Even today, sitting in this corridor on a cold stone bench after months of neglect, she touched Ginny with such tenderness. Ginny doubted she would have the same internal fortitude to forgive.

"I do miss Mum sometimes. She loved Hogwarts. I hope I am the person she would have wanted me to become," Luna mumbled the last words without her usual confidence. She took her wand and cast a holding charm on the bottom of the plait below Ginny's waist.

"I miss your Mum too. I miss her singing and reading to us from the Tales of Beedle Bard," Ginny turned to Luna and put her head in her lap. Luna picked up brittel winter sticks conjuring them into fragile umber flowers and placed them in Ginny's hair. "I know she would have been proud of you."

Luna stopped putting the flowers around Ginny's crown. She returned to picking at the discarded bread for the birds. Ginny sat up out of her lap and dug through her bag looking for her parchment and quill.

"Well, this poem won't write itself. What rhymes with Dark Lord?"

"Fjord, heard, curd, blackboard?"

"My love is the depth of a Norwegian Fjord/ for the hero who conquered the Dark Lord?"

"I like that. Norwegian trolls are very different from English ones. They are smaller, have higher intelligence, and congregate in small colonies."

"Good. How would you describe his eyes?"

"Are you writing a poem about Potter?" a sullen voice drawled behind Ginny's back. Turning around she saw Draco Malfoy's sneering rodent face. "Oh, my! The Hero who conquered the Dark Lord is in love with wittle weasel Weasley!"

"Stuff it Malfoy. Just because no girl can stand to look at your ferret face doesn't mean you need to mock others. What are you terrified you will find yourself crying alone in your dorm on Valentine's Day?" Annoyance filled Ginny. Her mind filled with images of Draco insulting Harry, calling Hermione that horrible word, and their fathers fighting. "Even with your Daddy's money and faster brooms you are still second rate."

"How is Daddy's money now that yours is under investigation?" Draco's face showed no emotion beyond a cold expressionless wall. "Will poor poor Mumsie be able to make do? Or will she work in the fields with the rest of the cows?"

Ginny's face flushed a deep magenta. Rage replace annoyance as Ginny's field of vision turned blood red. Jumping up from the stone bench she went toe to toe with Draco and silently looked up into his stony face.

"Never insult my Mum and Dad," her words quiet barely above a whisper. Ginny's fists clenched tight and she felt herself pull her arm back as if to punch upward into his smarmy face.

Draco jerked forward hoping to cause her to flinch but she stood tall unwavering. Confusion over her lack of reaction flashed on Draco's face for a brief second. Luna's hand reached from the stone seat gently touching Ginny's arm. She pulling her back from the almost altercation.

"Be happy I don't hex girls."

"Be happy neither do I."

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other confused by the last insult. Draco huffed and turned militaristic on his heel as he strutted out of the corridor. A loud "Moo" mixed with Crabbe and Goyle's laughter echoed throughout the courtyard.

Ginny sat with Luna seething. Anger pulsed through her at the insults hurled against her parents.

"His eyes are as green as pickled toads."

"What?" Ginny jerked her head away from watching the empty doorway. She looked in Luna's serene face completely unconcerned by what had transpired.

"Harry. Don't his eyes remind you of the toads we use to catch back in Devon? The ones by your Mum's pond that would scare the ducks when they would jump at them? They are the same pickle green as Harry's eyes."

Ginny threw her head back in laughter and joy. Luna was right. Harry did have eyes the same color as what they named "pickle toads".

"Oh Luna, what would I do without you?"

"You never have to find out." Luna leaned her head into Ginny's shoulder and pulled her waist tight into a sisterly embrace.

Ginny spent the next few weeks working and reworking the poem. The night before Valentine's day she was too excited to sleep. Harry would receive the Valentine in early morning before the hall crowded for breakfast. There would only be a few people down eating not paying much attention to the two of them. She could picture Harry's smile as she compared him to a toad and blackboard. It would loosen up his initial embarrassment making him laugh. Then her true feelings would come out.

He would hear how she found him divine. He would feel flattered at how she wished he was hers. He would puff his chest slightly up and stand a little taller at being the hero who conquered the Dark Lord. The poem would end, he would look up and see her. She would be standing behind the adorable little cupid with a voice as melodic as an angel.

Harry would really see her. The morning light would flicker through the large windows and light her hair on fire. She would be wearing her nicest robes and would stand there waiting. She wouldn't run to him. She would let him walk up to her. And she would smile a smirking sarcastic smile like this was no big deal. He would walk up and smile back at her. He would compliment her rhyme scheme and brilliance. She would be bold and talk to him with words instead of embarrassed muttering sounds.

Yes, tomorrow would be a perfect day. Ginny fiddled with her wand and prepared the wake charm so her wand would buzz at 5:30 am. She needed to get to the Great Hall as it was opening in the morning to wait for Harry. Ginny rolled over and fell into a deep satisfying sleep with pleasant dreams. Dreams filled with Harry and her playing Quidditch and talking as old friends.

Ginny woke not to her wand but to Xenia rummaging through her trunk for extra hair potion. Ginny rolled over and parted her curtains to look through the window. Rather than seeing the darkness of day breaking she saw the brightness of late morning. She heard the sounds of her dorm mates preparing for the morning. Ginny bolted upright with her heart pounding. She was late.

Frantically, she scrambled out of bed tripping. Her bed sheets and comforter tangled around her feet. Falling to the floor she kicked at her bedding trying to extricate herself from her bed. No no no. This is not how today is suppose to go.

Dressing in a blur she sprinted down to the common room. It was empty. She looked around to get her bearings. Was it empty because the first or second wave of students already left for breakfast?

"Good morning Ginny," a familiar voice yawned from behind a chair. Ginny spun around. She was face to face with Harry. Her face flushed deep crimson as she tried to slow her heartbeat. He looked straight into her eyes. His eyes were blazing as the pickle toad green contrasted the rich reds and golds surrounding him. "Would you like to join us for breakfast?"

"Toads," she managed to croak out.

"Toads?"

"Erh, important early meeting. So sorry. Must go. Toads," she tore out of the common room leaving a bewildered Harry in her wake. A dark shadow descended onto Ginny. The optimism from the night before vanished and was replaced by a sense of foreboding. Maybe a public poem wasn't a good idea. Nerves flitted in her stomach killing her early morning hunger.

Her sense of foreboding transformed into pure dread. Once she entered the Great Hall she saw an explosion of pink, taffeta, and hearts. Angry dwarves dressed in white sarongs with golden wings stood conversing in deep graveling voices. These were not the adorable angel like cherubs she had been expecting.

She sat at the farthest corner of the Gryffindor table. Thankfully, Lee, George, and Fred sat towards the middle. They were far away enough to miss her discomfort but close enough to obstruct her from the sight of anyone entering the Great Hall.

She piled her plate with bland porridge. Her stomach churned in anxious anticipation. She waited almost thirty minutes before seeing the familiar combination of unruly black, fire red, and bushy brown. Harry's expression transformed into a look of pure disgust seeing pink hearts and annoyed dwarves. He shook his downcast head towards Hermione and Ron as he grabbed a seat closest to the door enabling a fast exit. Packed to the seams the sound of student conversations bustled through the hall. Ginny prayed the dwarves would refrain from giving the Valentine now. Her anticipation built with every bland bite of porridge as the dwarves talked to themselves. Glancing down towards the trio relief swept over Ginny as she saw empty seats and plates.

Ginny drifted powerlessly through the day as her stomach tied thicker knots of trepidation. By late afternoon a dozen dwarves had disrupted almost all her classes. Waiting in a line outside of her last class she wondered if Harry had received his Valentine yet. Maybe Harry would be unable to figure out the sender. Maybe hers would not be the only one. After all, it isn't like she signed her name. Long vanished was her great plan on him hearing the musical poem and feeling gratitude towards her. Now she wanted to survive the day with relative anonymity.

"Oy, you! 'Arry Potter!" shouted the angriest dwarf she had seen that day. Ginny looked up and saw a very agitated and flushed Harry spin around. He tried escaping the oncoming dwarf but the dwarf locked on Harry from across the hall like a bludger. He battering rammed his way through the crowd. Plucking his harp menacingly he said gruffly, "I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter in person."

"Not here," Harry hissed frantic to escape the crowd. Ginny's stomach filled with apprehension. Several of her fellow first years snickered at the humiliating scene unfolding.

"Stay still!" The dwarf grabbed Harry's bag attempting to hold him back.

"Let me go!" Harry was angrier than Ginny had ever seen him. He snarled his last set of words as his bag split open spilling the contents onto the floor.

Ginny's heart stopped cold. She heard a familiar voice.

"Hello, Ginevra. Did you miss me? I have a new friend now."


	13. Best laid plans of mice and men

 

* * *

 

Harry swept his arms over his fallen possessions. His eyes bulged at the latest failed attempts to stuff his scattered things back into the broken bag. The diary skidded to her feet.

If she wanted she could grab it, but then everyone would see her picking up Harry's diary. Paralyzed by the internal war of whether or not to blatantly steal back the diary, Ginny froze. The hall could feel Harry's frustration mounting. Ginny's heart beat thrashed in her ears as Harry reached for the diary. His hands brushed against her shoelaces and her breath momentarily stopped. He picked up the wayward diary.

"What's going on here," drawled Malfoy joining the confusion. Harry's back stiffened in response to Malfoy's voice. Ginny was close enough to see a vein throbbing in Harry's neck. Harry tried to stuff everything back into his ripping bag. Pieces of parchment and quills burst through the open seam. He continued the scramble picking everything off the floor.

Ginny tried to swallow, but her mouth was drier than usual as if she stuffed it full of cotton balls. Ginny angled her shaking body to get closer to Harry's bursting bag. She had to grab the diary during the commotion Malfoy's presence brought.

"Right," the dwarf cleared his throat. He strummed his harp in a crescendo preparing to sing.

"What's all this?" Interrupted Percy as he took stock of the chaos invading his halls. Harry gave up rescuing his last pieces of parchment and sprang into a run. The dwarf, needing to fulfill his melodic obligation, grabbed Harry's knees and tackled him to the ground. Harry hit the stone floor with a painful thud.

"Right," the dwarf cleared his throat again while remaining seated on Harry's ankles. "Here is your singing Valentine."

Ginny's could not focus on her words sung. All she could see was Harry's humiliated face falling deeper and deeper into a painful grimace. By the time the dwarf reached the last line, Harry's head hung in shame and defeat.

"Don't worry, I will comfort him from this embarrassment."

Students ignored Percy's attempts at dispelling the crowd. Heat radiated through Ginny's body. Cold sweat poured across her skin leaving her nauseated and clammy. The sound of the surrounding laughter dulled. The familiar pressure and buzzing surrounded her. She couldn't stop Tom. Her emotions scattered away from her as she tried to reclaim her calm and stop his onslaught. The pressure and buzzing continued to descend.

"Give it back." Harry's growling voice jolted Ginny back to the present. His argument with Malfoy escalated. Malfoy held the sleek ebony diary. How did Malfoy get the diary? Ginny tried to form words to warn them not to touch it. To drop it and leave it alone but her field of vision narrowed as darkness closed in.

"Why would they believe anything you say?"

"Wonder what Potter's written in his special little Diary?" Malfoy's voice jarred Ginny out of her stupor. Her face felt ice cold and her arms tingled to her fingertips.

"Want me to show them all what you wrote?"

"Hand it over Malfoy," Percy boomed, squaring his shoulders, and thrusting out his chest. Ginny had never been so grateful for Percy's imposing sense of authority.

"It would be so easy to show them all you had to say."

"When I've had a look," Malfoy waved the diary around by the spine ignoring Percy's direct order. Percy's face flushed as he strutted towards Malfoy. The cover opened and the pages ruffled in motion. Her voice and words rang from the pages. Ginny's heart pounded so hard she was certain the rest of her classmates could hear the drumming beat.

"Perhaps, you want them to know everything. You want them to know you went insane and hurt all those people. You hurt your friends."

"Expelliarmus!" The diary flew away from Malfoy into Ron's outstretched hand. The drama over, her classmates stopped lollygagging and funneled into the classroom. Xenia walked into Ginny's back, her attention focused on the resolving scene instead of who was in front of her. Ginny looked back to Percy admonishing Harry over magic in the corridors.

"Don't worry, I will take special care of him for you."

The image of Tom possessing Harry consumed Ginny throughout her transfiguration lessons. Partnered with Beryl, Ginny struggled to maintain her focus. She missed steps in Professor McGonagall's instructions on turning a soup spoon into a bowl.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing! Why would you say that?"

"You are acting distracted." Beryl picked up the silver ceramic spoon that Ginny dropped as if to prove her point. "Is it because of his reaction to the poem?"

The poem. Ginny's face fell as her cheeks flushed. Ginny grabbed her spoon out of Beryl's hand harsher than she intended. Beryl humphed and turned her back to Ginny. She focused on creating an elaborate scene of white ballet dancers on her perfect blue bowl. Ginny sighed and continued to work on her spoon in silence. She didn't have time to worry about poems or embarrassment. She needed to save Harry from Tom. She needed a plan to get the diary back.

The next few weeks passed in a haze. Ginny abandoned her classwork and focused her energy on coming up with a plan to save Harry from Tom. She was the only one who knew how much danger he was in. The weight of the responsibility wore her down like a river chiseling its way through bedrock.

Her strategies for saving Harry germinated in several erratic directions. Her main plan involved rehiring the singing Dwarf to follow him around. The dwarf could tackle Harry when distracted so she could grab the diary from his fallen bag. The biggest hurdles to this plan were her lack of Dwarf contacts and Gallons to hire one. Conversations with Professor Lockhart left his eyes twitching as he stammered, "It had been a good idea at the time. I know what you and your friends want, how about another autographed picture for your room?"

Her next plan involved a dragon and Scabbers. She would distract Harry and Ron with a dragon in the courtyard. While they stared at the dragon in terror she would release Scabbers. Causing them to drop their things and go on a rescue mission to save Ron's beloved pet. She tried speaking to Hagrid about arranging this with Charlie. She positioned it as a learning exercise for the care of magical creatures, citing the complaints from the twins about the lack of excitement over the animals. Hagrid seemed enthusiastic at the time promising he would talk to Professor Kettleburn. Professor Kettleburn sternly informed Hagrid that dragons, even small ones, were inappropriate creatures. The substitute animals agreed upon would not invoke the same range of terror. A Hippogriff would not cause the boys to drop their bags and spring to action to save Scabbers.

So late one night Ginny sat in the common room trying to come up with a new plan. The twins' birthday was fast approaching and she sat no closer a viable solution. Harry and Ron sat down without Hermione in the corner of the common room. Ginny felt Tom in her body's flu-like reactions before she saw Harry pull the diary out of his bag.

To casual onlookers, everything seemed normal. Harry flipped through a book while Ron set up a chessboard. But Ginny could see they both were different in small subtle ways. Harry was studying the diary as if trying to crack some code. He kept turning it over in his hands as if expecting it to do something. He turned through several blank pages, before finally writing with his head turned away from Ron. Ron watched the diary from the corner of his eyes as fiddled with the pawns. Neither played the match set out before them. Watching Harry write in the diary turned Ginny's stomach. Tom lingered feet away, but he remained unnervingly quiet.

The weight of the secret was harder to bare every day. She noticed it was harder to get out of bed in the mornings and do small things like brush her teeth. All she wanted to do was stay asleep curled in her safe cocoon of blankets and curtains hidden away from the world. Her grades were plummeting. Professor McGongall was watching her a little too intently during Transfiguration. She wanted to confess to Ron and Harry what she knew, but something held her back. Every time she was close enough to talk to them she felt her throat close and coldness wash through her veins.

How could she explain she needed help because Tom stopped speaking to her? That he had not spoken to her since Valentine's day? That she needed help because she stopped going crazy? Tom silence was more unsettling than his previous taunts. His silence signaled he was focusing his attention on his new friend. Even in Harry's presence, when she knew Tom was feet away, he remained dormant.

It was only the burning sensations in her hands that confirmed her suspicions of Tom sitting in Harry's bag. The closer she sat to the `diary the stronger the prickling sensation in her hands and fingers. Ginny followed Harry, Hermione, and Ron through the shadows feeling for signs of the diary. Harry always had the bloody diary with him. Every class, every meal, every study session in the library. She dutifully followed the trio through the shadows of the castle. For weeks she waited for the burning sensation to dissipate, signaling the diary was left unattended.

Once Harry's regular Quidditch practices restarted he began leaving the diary in his dorm. The weeks leading up to the Hufflepuff Quidditch match she felt the burning in her hands lessen. Harry had practice almost every night leaving large gaps of time when she knew Tom was lying exposed. She had to wait and time everything to catch all five boys out of the room at once.

Ginny documented the quintet trying to discern any predictability to their movements. The only opening was when Harry would leave the diary for Quidditch and the room would lay dormant. But planning for this was close to impossible. Saturdays were the only predictable day for long stretches of unaccompanied time. Dean and Seamus spent their time outside rather than in the corner of the common room. If they were inside one of them would always leave to retrieve a forgotten quill or book. On Saturdays, they spent their days by the lake enjoying the sun with Lavender and Parvati. The walk from the lake was too far to retrieve any forgotten possession making their absence from the dorm guaranteed.

Ron was the easiest to plan around. He followed Hermione's predictable timetables like a loyal puppy. Saturday afternoons the two of them would hole up in the library for hours. Ron cracked jokes trying to break Hermione's concentration while she feigned annoyance. He would stay with her helping with revisions for at least four to five hours. Then he would follow her to the common room after retrieving his chessboard from the dorm while she read. As long as she was out before 4:30 she would not run into Ron.

Neville was the piece who was hard to find rhythm or reason to his movement. Unlike the other boys, he moved on his own. With no discernable group, Neville was the hardest to track. He moved quietly through the world with a general lack of purpose. Most Saturdays, he was down in the greenhouse. The quantity of time he spent with Professor Sprout was erratic at best. Some days he spent the entire afternoon only coming back to the dorm room in the evening. Other days he spent less than 15 minutes, returning to the dorm with several books and holing up for hours.

The Saturday before the Hufflepuff match Ginny had a general schedule arranged. Harry left for Quidditch after a fast inhalation of lunch. Ginny sat a few chairs away from the trio and felt nothing in her hands and fingers signaling an unaccompanied Tom in the dorm. Once she verified Dean and Seamus were heading outside she was almost home free. Watching intently, Dean and Seamus were finishing their lunch with Parvati and Lavender. The day was perfect. They had to be headed outside afterward. Ginny tried to crane her neck to see if she could see Dean's sketchbook. Lavender obstructed her view of their things. The weather was warm and the sun was shining. The four rose from the table and walked towards the door. If they turned right towards the lake instead of left towards the dorms she only needed to keep Neville occupied. Watching the four leave and turn right a rush of relief descended on Ginny. Dean had his sketchbook, they would stay outside until dinner.

Neville was her wildcard. She expected him to leave for Professor Sprout's greenhouse after finishing his lunch. He ate slowly savoring each sip of soup. Ginny's foot tapped in frustration. How on earth could anyone eat so slow? Hermione and Ron entered twenty minutes after him and were gathering their things to leave. Neville stayed at the table still sipping his soup. He appeared completely oblivious to the world around him caught up in some empty headed thought. Did he not realize how precious this time was? How desperate she was for him to leave and be gone the entire afternoon? Her stomach churned as she tried to pick at her bread to justify lingering at the table. Her small picks turned into tears as her frustration mounted at Neville's inability to drink a bowl of soup. The unknown his schedule frustrated her. How could anyone walk through life so haphazard?

Finally, Neville put down his spoon and rose from the table. Masking her ecstasy at him finally moving Ginny stood up half a beat later. She followed Neville from lunch careful to stay three steps behind avoiding detection. She crept through the shadows walking as silent as a cat. Neville meandered his predictable path until they reached the stairs to the castle. Ginny walked a few feet behind him but she lost sight when he reached the foot of the steps. Walking exposed down the steps, Neville sauntered from behind a stone pillar. He stood at the bottom step blocking her from moving forward and looked her feet.

"You are watching me." He looked up to her face perplexed and confused.

"No, I am not," Ginny replied with defiance. She squared her shoulders. Looking him dead in the eyes she dared him to press on.

"You have been following me for a few weeks." Ginny didn't have a response. She lost her nerve and looked down at her shuffling feet unable to meet Neville's prying eyes. "I am not mad, just tell me why."

"Why?"

"Why you are following me. Is this some joke from your brothers? Or do you want something?"

"I..I.."

"Yes," The simple word said with such patience and kindness. Ginny looked up from her feet into his blue eyes and round face. He wasn't angry or accusatory. He looked genuinely curious.

"I need help."

"Oh!" Neville leaned back as his eyes popped open in surprise. "You need help? Why would you need help from me?"

"I need….I need help...I needhelpwithHerbology," Her tongue tied as the lie tripped its way out of her mouth. For a moment she wondered if he would catch her and demand to know the truth. It would be a relief to be caught by someone, to share her burden with anyone. The urge to confess left as she shook her head to clear her thoughts. Not today. She can't get caught until Tom is destroyed. She is so close.

She tried looking at Neville with her most convincing smile rather than the grimace she felt bubbling under the surface. Her eyes twitched as she tried to hold the pleading grin, threatening to give her secret away. She couldn't confess today. As Ginny felt her face betraying her words, she looked at her shuffling feet on the ground waiting for his answer.

"Ah! I would love to help you with Herbology Ginny. I need to help Professor Sprout re-pot the Mandrakes today and that may be a little dangerous for you. It will take all afternoon but I can help you with your studies tomorrow. First-year Herbology isn't bad once you get the rhyme and rhythm of the memorization down. I can even put a good word in for you with Professor Sprout, let her know you asked for extra help. She loves seeing students reaching out to each other. Tell you what, I will see you tomorrow after lunch in the common room!" Neville waved with a broad smile on his face. He looked thunderstruck as he whistled cheerfully down the path towards the greenhouse.

He believed her. Even better, he was occupied the entire afternoon. It was time. Ginny sprinted back up the castle steps determined to end Tom once and for all.


End file.
